There And Back Again
by Evilism
Summary: Hermione tries to defy the Prophecy, that only allows Harry to kill Voldemort.But Tom doesn't seem that evil, and even appears to like her!Can she change history?Cloak and dagger activities, all is not what it seems. COMPLETE
1. Default Chapter

Note: I don't own these characters.  
  
Hermione Granger paced around restlessly. Where on earth was Ron? Their first S.P.E.W. meeting for the year was due in five minutes, and so far, no one had shown up. Sixth year really sucks, she thought angrily.  
  
10 minutes later, two boys burst into the abandoned classroom, panting. One had black hair. But the most intriguing thing about him was not his glasses, or even the Snitch in his hands it was the scar on his forehead. Behind him, a ginger-haired freckled boy slumped against the wall.  
  
"He got the Snitch, Hermione!" said Ron excitedly. "Harry snatched it before Malfoy got his slimy hands on it!"  
  
"Whatever. Harry has won about a thousand games by now.in fact, he ALWAYS wins," she said cynically. "But who cleans up the mess? Who toils around dutifully in the kitchens while you sleep away?" she asked, as though in a debate.  
  
"You mean WHAT," said Ron with a bored look on his face. Hermione might be pretty, and had a charming look about her, but she was still the same old Hermione. Sweet sixteen really agrees with you, Hermione, thought Ron with a little smile.  
  
Harry was more attentive. "What're we gonna do today?" he asked. "Don't forget that we have Transfiguration later on," he reminded her, as though she hadn't memorised her timetable by heart.  
  
"House elves are underappreciated. They deserve wages," she said, launching into the usual boring speech. Ron concentrated on her beautiful eyes instead, totally shutting out her voice.  
  
"...and one frightened-looking house elf named Hitta gave me this," she finished, waving about a black diary. Harry started. It looked like Voldemort's diary. But that was impossible. "It's time to go," he said.  
  
"I'll join you two later," said Hermione. The diary had an unexplained charm about it. As though it was calling out to her.  
  
"Bye, Mione," said Ron a little mushily. Her lips looked kissable, he thought. One day, I'll find out for real.  
  
******************  
  
Hermione examined the black book. It fluttered open, to a certain page. Why, she thought. It's the exact date as today..only 50 years in the past! Too bad it's blank.  
  
She tapped it with her wand lightly. "Revelatio," she muttered. It was a little spell she learned from a book at the Restricted Section, about secret-revealations. Oh, well, she thought, when nothing happened. It's a silly charm anyway.  
  
But then, a gust of wind swept into the classroom. It smelled of very strong magic. To her horror, Hermione discovered that she was disapparating. But I can't disapparate on school grounds, she thought frantically. Before a word left her mouth, she fell limp. She had fainted.  
  
When she awoke, a boy was hovering above her. He had jet-black hair. Quite good-looking, really, she thought. Then she blushed. He was staring at her so intently, it was embarrassing! She scrambled to her feet.  
  
"I must be getting to Transfigurations now,' she mumbled. His eyes were cornflower-blue, and his hair.."Professor McGonagall's waiting,"  
  
"She's not our Transfiguration professor," he said, a puzzled look on his slightly haughty face. "It's Professor Dumbledore,"  
  
Hermione gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth. "By the way," the boy said. "You haven't told me your name..yet," he said, as his eyes searched her face. He gave her the one-over, and seemed to like it.  
  
"I'm Hermione Gran.gy," she said. It wouldn't do to give him my name. I'm in the past, for heaven's sake. The fear gripped her. Dumbledore was Transfiguration teacher when the Chamber of Secrets was open. When You-Know- Who was still a student. Harry had told her everything. She must warn someone. Tom Riddle was the one who opened the chamber!  
  
She would warn this boy. Together, they would convince Dumbledore.  
  
The look on her face made him smile. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Hermione Grangy," he said. He grasped her hand tightly, and gave her a winning smile.  
  
"I'm Tom," he continued, all the while holding Hermione's hand.  
  
"Tom Marvolo Riddle." He finished.  
  
AN: Please tell me if I should continue this. Leave your answer at the Reviews page, okay? :-D 


	2. Chapter2

Note: I don't down these characters  
  
Tom Marvolo Riddle? Hermione immediately snatched her hand away, and inspected it off-handedly. She looked at his handsome, pale face, framed by thick, jet-black hair. Tom Marvolo Riddle?  
  
"I, uh, need to go," she said hurriedly. Of all people to meet! Young Voldemort!  
  
Panic rose in her, but she sensibly calmed herself down. Never let fear surface when confronted by your enemy, she told herself. With that, Hermione turned away, and tried to accost a passing student.  
  
"Please, I need to see Professor Dumbledore...now!" she almost yelled at a blonde student. He took one look at her and fled away, leaving Hermione open-mouthed and insulted.  
  
"I see that help is hard to come by," remarked a voice behind her. Her heart sank like a stone. It was Voldemort Junior.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore is away..for the moment," he said, fingering his Prefect badge. She noticed that it had a tiny snake etched into it. He's a Parselmouth, she thought. Snakes are his servants.  
  
Tom was chatting animatedly, staring at her all the time but Hermione only had one thing o her mind. If Dumbledore was away, she would go straight to the Headmaster. Professor Dippet.  
  
"Well, then I guess I'll see Professor Dippet," she said. He turned his eyes on her, and for a while, anger almost flashed in them. But in a split second, it was gone. Tom was all smiles again.  
  
"I'll walk you there," he said. With annoyance, Hermione realise that it was a statement, not an offer. So, she thought. Was this how Voldemort spent his schooldays? Walking girls to offices?  
  
They walked in silence, and through keen observation, Hermione noted that most students seem to treat Tom with respect. A group of proud-faced Slytherins gave him a nod and he passed by. Tom hardly gave them a glance.  
  
Hermione felt angry with herself, for even being courteous to Harry's mortal enemy. He killed Harry's parents! She screamed inwardly. But, she could not deny that he had a very charming personality. She hated him for it.  
  
They arrived at Professor Dippet's door. But before Hermione could knock, Tom grabbed her hand impulsively. His face had an excited look on it, as though he had murdered a million muggles, thought Hermione.  
  
"Hermione Gangly," said Tom. His eyes were sparkling so brightly that they literally blinded her. "I've found a secret hideout," he said. "And though I've only known you for a few minutes, you're the first person that I've told," he said. Hermione stared back. His blue eyes were very absorbing. Then, she mentally kicked herself.  
  
"I've found a place.a sacred place. It took me years to find it..but now, Salazar's work shall be completed," Tom said. His eyes never left her for a nanosecond.  
  
The Chamber of Secrets! Thought Hermione. He's found it? Then the killings are about to begin, she thought dismally. And he doesn't know that I'm muggle-born. Good.  
  
"Well, I don't know what to say,' she faltered. She didn't want to annoy Tom, but Professor Dippet was only a knock away. She turned her back on his faintly enraged face, and knocked resolutely o the door.  
  
"Come in," said a tired voice. With apprehension, Hermione pushed the door open and stepped into the candle-lit room. It looked almost like Dumbledore's office, with the numerous portraits of past headmasters snoozing on the walls. Professor Dippet's wrinkled face looked confused as she came in.  
  
For a second, Hermione contemplated telling him everything about Voldemort. She did, but as soon as she got to the part about his rebirth, he laughed derisively.  
  
"What a FANTASTIC story, my girl!" he chuckled. "I'm sorry, but I don't have time for fairy tales," he said, an amused smile playing on his thin lips.  
  
"But it's true!" she said. "In fact, I'll tell you who he is. He is Tom-" but she got no further. Professor Dippet's face transformed into crumpled fury at the mention of his favourite Prefect's name.  
  
"Cock and bull stories are one thing, but bad-mouthing my students is another! Out now!!" he shouted.  
  
Hermione retreated hastily. She could see that Professor Dippet was no Dumbledore. He was a fool, who pretended that Hogwarts was a paradise, not a breeding ground for evil. But then a faint voice called out to her. It was one of the many portraits on the wall. Professor Dippet gave a disgusted snort. "Go ahead, Johnson," he said.  
  
Johnson, a black and white wizard with a curled moustache, motioned for Hermione to come closer.  
  
"I believe you," he said softly. "I've always believed that evil is playing an invisible hand at moulding our students," he sighed. "And your part about time-travel was very intriguing. If it is true, that you were given a chance to reshape history, I say, go for it," said Johnson, his eyes unblinking. Hermione nodded in agreement.  
  
"So, young lady, I have a word of advice for you,'" he said, as he nodded for her to come even closer. "This way, you can get some information from that villain, and use it against him. But first, you need to know his weakness," he said. Hermione was curious. It seemed reasonable. She would dig out Voldemort's innermost secrets, and foil his evil scheme. Johnson was gesturing for her to lay her ear on his portrait. She did so.  
  
A second later...  
  
"WHAT?" she shouted. "You want me to SLEEP with him??!!"  
  
A/N: review, review, review! 


	3. Chapter 3

Note: I don't own these characters.  
  
Johnson hung his tiny head. Hermione was gripping the frame of his portrait with a grip of iron. "I should sleep with him??!!"  
  
Behind her, Professor Dippet barely bated and eyelid. He knew that Johnson, an ex-Potions Master, was off his rocker. It must be something that he drank, 40 years ago, thought Professor Dippet. Johnson was found dead in his dungeon, a goblet of unidentified liquid of unknown substance by his side. Most teachers have dropped some very obvious hints about chucking Johnson in the bin, but Professor Dippet could not bring himself to do just that. Professor Simon Johnson was an old friend. A little lunatic, surely, but still..  
  
"What makes you think that Tom's even WILLING?" she demanded. "I've bushy hair and my teeth still look a little big. Besides, he's a murderer," she added a matter-of-factly. "I'll never see daylight again, if I shared a dorm with him."  
  
Johnson looked up. He stroked his goatee, and stared at Hermione with the air of a man preparing himself for some serious persuading and convincing.  
  
"Have you looked in the mirror, Miss Gangly?" he asked. "You sound very articulate while rambling about that Volmort of yours, but now you're having second thoughts about putting a halt to his evil doings?" he lectured. Johnson shook his head sadly. "Young people nowadays. All talk and no action."  
  
Hermione frowned. "It's Voldemort, not Volmort," she corrected. "And I don't remember saying that he was interested in me."  
  
Johnson chuckled. "Young lady, Tom Riddle NEVER offers to walk anyone anywhere. Usually, he just pretends that Hogwarts is his. He is cold, arrogant and insolent, especially to muggle-born students." At this Professor Dippet threw his quill down and glared at Johnson.  
  
"Sorry, Professor," said Johnson, winking at Hermione. "I've forgotten that he's your pet, isn't he?" Professor Dippet frowned disapprovingly, but he returned to his work. The parchment that he was writing on magically grew, when his sentences approach the bottom.  
  
"And, I'm most interested about the secret hideout that Tom mentioned. You said that it was the Chamber of Secrets?" inquired Johnson. Hermione nodded.  
  
"Then it is just as I have suspected. There really is a hidden part of Hogwarts that Salazar built. And recently, I've heard some very strange..hissing. There's something lusting for blood, after a long wait," said Johnson. "I've heard the words "Master" and "soon". Do they have any meaning to you?"  
  
Hermione gasped. "Yes," she almost shouted. "It's the basilisk that I told you about. You're a Parselmouth?"  
  
Johnson gave her a wry smile. "Yes. And it's not a gift. I hear things.that are not altogether to my liking. But no one has died yet. You said that Myrtle would be the first?"  
  
Hermione nodded frantically. Finally, she thought. Someone believes me! "It's in the girls' toilet, but only a Parselmouth can open the entrance. I didn't enter, as I was Petrified, and.I felt so useless. But Harry faced the basilisk..and killed it," she said softly. At the thought of Harry, she bit her lip. Was she ever going back?  
Johnson stared at Hermione sympathetically. If she spoke words of truth, then the world of wizards was doomed. Massacre, muggle killings and the rise of Dementors. He shuddered.  
  
"Then try your best.to get into the secret chamber," said Johnson. His face was impassive.  
  
Hermione stared at him incredulously. "And then what? Get killed by the basilisk? Why would I want to-"  
  
Johnson held up a miniscule hand. His miniature face looked worried, but he gave her a small smile. "You'll find out why later. For now, it is Tom's trust that you will have to gain."  
  
Hermione walked out of Professor Dippet's office. She jumped a little when Tom rounded up on her.  
  
"So, how did it go?" he asked. His blue eyes seemed eager, and his thin lips smiled a private smile.  
  
"It was fine," replied Hermione shortly. Then she remembered Johnson's words. "But you haven't told me anything about yourself," she said, and gave him a bright smile. I wish I knew how Purebloods act, thought Hermione miserably. Draco Malfoy's perpetually sneering face popped into her mind. She sneered.  
  
Tom Riddled seemed delighted at her change of attitude. The mysterious girl who had appeared out of thin air had intrigued him, more than anyone ever had. She looked..clever, he thought.  
  
"I'm an orphan," he said. For a while, his downcasted eyes and trembling lip almost made Hermione felt sorry for him. Perhaps he wasn't born evil, she thought. Nobody is.  
  
Tom kept his gaze on his shoes, as they walked to the Quidditch field. "My father left my late mother when he discovered that she was a witch," he said bitterly. "He was a muggle, Hermione. I don't think that he understood us at all," he continued. Hermione's heart went out to him, even though she knew.  
  
"Anyway, I grew up in the orphanage, where hunger plagued us, and the elder kids will mistreat the younger ones. Even the carers turned a blind eye on my bleeding nose, that was punched by a 15-year-old. But then..a miracle happened. A letter came, and I was enrolled into Hogwarts. The people at the orphanage considered me a freak, and some set fire to my clothes. Do you know, Hermione, how I dread returning to the orphanage during the holidays?"  
  
Hermione placed an arm on his shoulder. Was that Voldemort's childhood? Famished, bullied and despised? With a jolt, she realised that it was similar to Harry's experience at the Dursleys. God, she thought. I hope that Harry has enough sense to turn his talents towards good things.  
  
"I-I understand how it feels," she said truthfully, thinking of Harry. "Both your parents dead, an unfulfilled hunger for love, wanting to fit in yet looked upon as an outcast. It is terrible,"  
Tom turned towards Hermione, his blue eyes sparkling. "You do?"  
  
Hermione nodded. "And I thought that I was alone. Not anymore,"  
  
He smiled. "No, not anymore,"  
  
Back in the 21st century...  
  
"Okay, stop panicking, we'll find her," assured Harry, as he paced around the classroom, where Hermione disappeared.  
  
Ron was fretting like a mother hen that had lost her chicks. "She was right behind us," he wailed. "It's that black diary of hers. I know it is!"  
  
Harry smiled grimly. He frowned and took out his wand. "Then we're going to find her. By hook, or by crook," he said. He pointed his wand at the diary, and clenched his fists resolutely. "Or by magic." 


	4. Someday I'll find out

Note: I don't own these characters. You know who does.  
  
"So, when are we going to see the chamb-uh-secret hideout?" asked Hermione nervously. "And isn't it dangerous or something?" she continued, thinking about the basilisk. She had seen it once, in the mirror, and didn't wish to encounter the younger version of it. Maybe it'll be smaller, she thought hopefully.  
  
Tom stopped in his tracks. His face wore a calculative, shrewd expression, and he ran a hand through his thick black hair. Hermione was relieved to see that for once, his eyes weren't staring unblinkingly at her. It was as though two very strong headlights had been shut off.  
  
"No," he said slowly, raising his eyes. It isn't dangerous. To intruders and muggle-borns, maybe, but not to us,". But I'm muggle-born! Hermione screamed in her heart. The basilisk would kill me, or I would be Petrified....again!  
  
Hermione felt in the pockets of her robe, and her trembling hand closed on a cylinder shaped object. It would be useful, during emergencies, especially towards the basilisk's huge, bulbous eyes. A sense of calmness swept over her, and she managed a smile on her face. It had a tinge of evil in it.  
  
"Of course. Silly me. Only the muggle-borns who taint Hogwarts would face unspeakable horrors, and not us," she exclaimed, looking back into his eyes with a stare that would impress Luna. Tom showed a few teeth, as he broke into a grin, and grabbed her hand. Hermione did not wince this time, or wrench it away from him, he thought delightedly. I think I've found a soulmate here, he thought.  
  
"Do you know, Hermione, that in the muggle world, there are only two people that I admire," he said, as he released her hand. She raised her eyes level to his. "Oh? Who are they?" she asked.  
  
His answer chilled her. They were they the most evil beings of their time, yet, they both have something in common. Jack The Ripper and Adolf Hitler both had the notion that they were 'cleansing' the world. Jack of prostitutes, and Hitler of Jews. The bad seed was already firmly planted in Tom, thought Hermione. But for the sake of Johnson, she managed an understanding smile. "Yes. They were worthy of praise," she blurted out. According to Harry, Voldemort's Death Eaters grovelled at his feet and kissed his robes. Peter Pettigrew even chopped of his arm for the sake of him. But Hermione was not about to sing praises of Tom, not even for the sake of the future. Nor was she ready to grovel at his feet.  
  
Several students were staring at them with puzzled looks on their faces. It was very unlike the haughty, insolent Prefect to be seen in the company of girls. And he did not even appear to be disgusted or infuriated.  
  
Unknown to the both of them, they had reached the quidditch field, where a match was being held between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. The euphoria and excitement was infectious, and soon, Hermione found herself jumping for joy whenever Gary Smith, the flame-haired Gryffindor seeker, managed to foil Klokiv Bludgurl's plain to snatch it. Klokiv was huge, burly, and had really thick eyebrows. He should be in Slytherin, thought Hermione, as Klokiv attempted to knock Gary off his broom.  
  
"I see that you're supporting the Gryffindor team," said Tom Riddle, as he gave her a dazzling smile. Hermione barely glanced at him. Gary was so close to the snitch.so close...  
  
"And Gryffindor WINS by a hundred and seventy points1!" rang the commentator's clear, triumphant voice. Hermione was jubilant, and she hugged Tom happily. Suddenly, she realised that she was hugging Voldemort, and immediately released him with a start.  
  
"Don't worry, Hermione," said Tom silkily. "I enjoyed it as much as you did,".  
  
Hermione gazed at Tom Riddle questioningly. Lord Voldemort had once been a teenager too, she mused. A little unconventional, perhaps, but a long, long time ago, before he rearranged his name to spell Lord Voldemort, he was still Tom Malvolo Riddle. I wonder what made him so wicked, she thought ponderingly. Whas it really his father's leaving?  
  
Tom Riddle returned Hermione's gaze. True, she was good to look at, he smiled appreciatively. But there was something unexplainable about Hermione, and the mysteries that surrounded her. Tom was absolutely certain that he had never seen her before in his entire, long-suffering life. She had somehow materialised in front of his eye, wearing school robes and a Prefect badge on her breast. Besides, her robes had a slightly different look to them. Tom put two and two together and came to two conclusions. First, she might have come from an alternate universe. Second, she was from the future. He preferred the second theory. Moreover, her assumption that Dumbledore was Headmaster was very intriguing. Tom knew that Dumbledore might become Headmaster...sometime in the future.  
  
He gave her a charming, vampire-like smile. Someday, I'll find out, they both thought.  
  
AN: Can you guess what Hermione has in her pocket? Hint: It's very useful against the basilisk's huge eyes (if she can avoid looking into them, of course). 50 points for the correct answer. (plain geniuses, it's time to earn your house some points!)  
  
Dear Mrs.Shigwa.Cobain: I know this is short, but don't fry me, okay? And I'm sorry that I removed "Harry's Best Kept Secret". I felt that it's better to concentrate on one story at a time. Hope you'll continue reading this! *smiles* Oh, and I'll try to update soon(er) too!  
  
Dear Gatoris/Iris : Thanks for your support. I really don't know how to make them more British! Glad to know that you're feeling the same! *feels extremely relieved* 


	5. I Love Hermione Not Hortense

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. I merely tamper with them.  
  
AN: Sorry, couldn't update sooner..My computer crashed.  
  
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"Voldemort is my past, present and future"  
  
Tom Marvolo Riddle, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
An irritated cough jolted Tom and Hermione back to reality. A girl in pigtails was twirling her blue ribbon around her fingers as she tapped Tom's arm. She had emerald green eyes with dark brown irises, and her silky auburn hair was perfectly braided, with absolutely no flyaway strands visible. Hermione noted rather enviously tat the stunning girl had a heart- shaped face and radiant complexion of exquisite princess. In a nutshell, the girl was just darn beautiful.  
  
Her slender frame trembled slightly as she touched Tom's arm. In an instant, the dreamy look on his face vanished, and he seized his hand violently away, startling the girl. The girl cowered, but she held on determinedly on to him. "What is it, Hortense?" he snarled frostily at her, his deep blue eyes avoiding her searching, pleading ones. "Get your filthy fingers at least ten feet away from me," he continued frigidly. Hermione was surprised at Tom's sudden change of behavior, but she quickly reminded herself that toadstools never change their spots. He was still Voldemort.  
  
The poor, trodden-on, bullied orphan façade was gone, and for a second, he almost resembled an animal. A hissing serpent, to be exact, thought Hermione. She shivered, although it was not cold. As quick as lightning, Tom placed his hands around her, and glared at Hortense. His actions confused Hermione. Tom was protective and possessive of her, but with Hortense, his cold demeanor made her shudder.  
  
"Are you through with me now? You gave me this dress," she said, pointing at her crimson velvet frock. "Is it because of her?" she continued in a trembling, small voice. Hermione was shocked to see that Hortense's doe eyes were brimming with tears. The poor girl really loves him, she thought. I wonder if she knew that he admires a sicko. Or what he'll turn out to be. He is insane, she screamed at Hortense mentally. But why are we so drawn to him?  
  
Instead of giving Hortense an answer, Tom did the most insolent, degrading, vulgar thing that Hermione had ever seen - he spat t her beautiful, upturned face and stalked away, an air of superiority about him. "Meet me in my dorm later, Hermione," he said. Again, she realized that it was an order, not an offer. Anger built up in Hermione like never before, and her hand shook so violently that she couldn't stand still. Tom was walking way with an arrogant strut, and she hated the way he treated Hortense. And he wants to meet me in his dorm?  
  
Hermione bended down and picked up a stone. And flung it as hard as she could at Tom. Naturally, he whipped his dark head round and, stared piercingly at her. But instead of cursing her to oblivion, Tom simply picked up the stone, as though it was the most precious gem in the universe. He dropped it into his pocket, after touching it to his lips, and stalked away.  
  
Seeing that, Hortense crumbled to the ground, and silent tears trailed down her cheeks. She did not seem to notice that the crowd was pointing and jeering at her. Hermione's sharp ears caught someone saying, "another of Riddle's victims, eh? She's fifth, I'll bet,"  
  
Hermione let out n exasperated sigh. "Come on," she said sharply, her eyes flashing. "He doesn't deserve your tears,", she said. Hortense stood up abruptly, her jade eyes sparkling with tears. "I love him so much," she wept. "But he loves you. I can see that. He doesn't even treat me that well when we were together,". Hermione was silent. The stone, she thought silently. He kept the stone.  
  
Hortense looked into Hermione's eyes. "I gave him everything," she said. "Including my finger," Hortense trusted her left hand to view. To Hermione's horror and nausea, it was missing a thumb. "But why ever did you do that?" she asked. "Is he even worth it?"  
  
In a split second, Hortense's weepy look was replaced by a worshipping one. "Yes," she whispered fiercely. "Yes, he was worth it. It was worth every drop of blood, flesh and bone.", at her words, Hermione gave a shudder. That's black magic, she thought. Why would Tom need Hortense's finger? I'll find out tonight, she thought grimly. Hortense, meanwhile, continued talking with n empty look in her eyes. "Yes, it was worth it," she whispered repeatedly. "With my help, he's more powerful now. My Lord Voldemort,"  
  
Hermione jumped. Unless her ears ha deceived her, Hortense had just called Tom Voldemort. She must have been pretty close to him, she concluded. I wonder why he would ditch his loyal follower.  
  
Then, her heart skipped a beat. Hortense's ears had a slightly pointy look to them. True, she was beautiful, and human-like, but surely Voldemort had powers unknown to the wizards' lore? Slvishness and willingness to sacrifice oneself were two stupid but prominent traits of a house elf. And Hortense had asked if Tom was through with her, after he gave her the dress. It was as though it was an ultimatum. I should know, thought Hermione sagely. I'm President of S.P.E.W.  
  
"Hortense, are, you, a , uh, house elf?" asked Hermione tentatively. Hortense gave her a long, astute look. "No," she answered, to Hermione's relief. "I'm a Seer. The youngest one ever. Tom pried me for my premonitions. But now," a tear trickled down her cheek. "I realize that I'm dispensable,"  
  
So, Voldemort had begun rallying followers, ever since his schooldays, thought Hermione. A Seer? She would be useful to him, thought Hermione. All of a sudden Hortense flopped to the ground, as though she had fainted. But before Hermione could call for help, a derisive, triumphant laugh was heard. The laugh of a demented being. "He's found it at last." Rasped Hortense, her eyes rolling madly. "Lord Voldemort shall change the world of the wizards,". Hermione gave another shudder. The world wouldn't be change for the better, she thought. It would take a turn for the worst, if Voldemort ever comes to power. She thought of Harry's parents. And he will.  
  
For the first time in her life, Hermione felt scared and utterly helpless. No one believed her but Johnson. She was all alone, in a foreign timeline, against the Dark Lord. And if I kill Tom, then what? She thought exasperatedly. And I can't even kill him. Only Harry can, according to the prophecy. She narrowed her eyes. The Prophecy was made by Professor Trelawney. Hermione had always thought that she was an extremely incompetent teacher, and that Divination was a useless, obscure branch of magic.  
  
Her mind raced, as possibilities presented themselves to her. Then a thought struck Hermione, and her eyes shone brightly.  
  
Was there a way to defy the Prophecy and cheat fate?  
  
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AN: Please review! The more reviews, the faster I'll write.  
  
Dear Mauradertimes: Nope! Not mirror!  
  
Dear Samantha_Carlyn: This one's for you  
  
Dear Gothic_Neelam: No, It's not a mirror.  
  
Dear Mrs.Shigwa.Cobain: I'm sorry if the story upsets you. looks at her shoes But I had to show that Voldemort had a twisted mind, gifted, yes, but definitely twisted. 


	6. His Pet

"Speak to me, Slytherin, Greatest of Hogwarts Four,"  
  
-Tom Marvolo Riddle  
  
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"Blimey," said Ron, as Harry performed his fifth charm on the black book. As usual, nothing happened. "I didn't know that you knew so many curses, Harry," he said, scratching his head. Harry's scar throbbed faintly, but he furrowed his brow, and narrowed his green eyes pensively. How did Hermione disappear?  
  
"Those are not curses, Ron,' he muttered idly. "Curses are the sort of things that we use on Draco," he explained, adjusting his glasses. Ron's ears turned red, and so did his freckled face. "Yeah, well, I didn't get nine OWLS, like you did," he mumbled. Harry shut his eyes and mentally kicked himself in the shin. "Hermione's got fifteen," he said. Ron's ears became a deeper shade of scarlet. Damn, thought Harry. Put my foot in my mouth, as usual. "Besides," he said kindly, "Seven OWLS is pretty good...for someone who spends almost all his free time practising quidditch," he said.  
  
Ron shrugged, but he turned slightly less crimson. "Mum's satisfied," he said offhandedly. "It's better than Fred and George's,". Harry took the hint, and decided that the subject on OWLS was closed. Right now, Hermione was their main focus.  
  
Ron winked playfully. "I still can't believe that you continued Potions," he laughed. "How's Snape?"  
  
Harry gave a scowl. "Worse than ever. He's mad because Dumbledore persuaded him to allow me to continue Potions, even though I didn't obtained an 'Outstanding'. But it's a necessity. It's essential study for Aurors," he said, quoting Professor McGonagall.  
  
Ron sighed. "But Potion's useless now. Where DID she go? Maybe," he said, wide-eyed. "Maybe she Apparated!"  
  
Harry rolled his eyes. He didn't felt like taking over Hermione's role, and telling Ron that she couldn't have Apparated on school grounds. Maybe Dumbledore can, he thought, thinking about last year. But not Hermione, however smart she is.  
  
Harry smiled grimly. "Then, I guess it's time to pay Dumbledore a visit,"  
  
****************************************************  
  
It was getting dark, and Hermione, feeling lonely, stranded and hungry, decided to head back to the castle. Hortense had already left an hour ago, while she was busy plotting to change history. Out of her many ridiculous plans, one stuck. It was the most dangerous plan, but it would be the only way, thought Hermione miserably. She trudged to the Great Hall, where the students were chatting, awaiting their food.  
  
Hermione noticed Hortense sitting at the Hufflepuff table, staring longingly at Tom. As she tore her eyes away from the charismatic Slytherin, she found the Bloody Baron gliding towards her. It's okay, she told herself. he'll just pass you, like he always does. But instead of floating pass her, the silvery blood-drenched ghost came to a stop in front of Hermione. His hollow, empty eyes stared blankly at her, as though the fearsome ghost was trying to remember something.  
  
Finally, a low voice was heard. "You were seen, in a different timeline," came the voice. Hermione was confused beyond words. The ghost's mouth never moved. But he was definitely talking to her. It couldn't have been anyone else.  
  
"Yes," she whispered, half frightened. "How do you know?" But a cold, strong hand was suddenly resting on her shoulder. The Bloody Baron left wordlessly, and Hermione turned angrily, intending to tell her interrupter off. But it was Tom. She shut her mouth with a snap, as he gazed at her with - could it be- admiration? "He talked to you," he said, looking at her with his absorbing blue eyes. Those eyes always seemed to know what she was thinking about. With a jolt, Hermione remembered that Harry had once told her that Voldemort was a skilled Legilimens, and always knew when his Death Eaters were not being completely honest. Could Tom have acquired the skill when he was in school? It was possible.  
  
"You must sit with me....Beside me," he breathed. Hermione closed her eyes. She had nothing to lose. Tom pulled out a chair for her, and settled himself in his own chair, as though it was his throne, and she was his queen. They were surrounded by empty seats. It was almost as if the seats were......exclusive.  
  
Tom chatted lightly, talking in hushed but proud tones about his secret hide-out. "You see, Hermione," he said, a thin smile adorning this handsome face. "There happened to be a little Easter Egg waiting for me there. You might say that it is my...pet," he laughed. It's the basilisk, thought Hermione. I'm dead.  
  
"I had to gain its trust," he continued after a sip of pumpkin juice. "The books wrote that one has to be able to speak its language, and offer it some flesh. Flesh of a witch," he said. Hermione tried not to shudder. Hortense had said that with her help, Tom's more powerful now. She gave the basilisk a piece of herself?  
  
"Of, course, the language isn't a problem. But as for the meat...." he trailed off darkly. "Now," he said. "You must be wondering why I'm telling you all these,". Hermione said nothing. "I knew that you were special," he said, simply. "It's one of those things that even I cannot explain," Hermione gritted her teeth. That's not true, she told herself. Voldemort knows that you're from the future, and wants your knowledge. That's why he didn't need a Seer anymore. But....he sounded so sincere. As though, he really loves me.  
  
Tom laid his hand on hers. She noticed that it was warm, not cold, like his usual touch. "But enough about that. Tonight, you will meet my....pet, and then, there's no turning back," he finished. His eyes sparkled. Hermione couldn't contain her anxiety any longer. It had been building up in her from the moment he said 'Easter Egg', and when he told her that they were going to meet the basilisk, it exploded.  
  
She stood up, and pointed her fork at him. He seemed surprise, but his hand never ventured to his wand. "You wanted to meet me in your dorm," she hissed, "so that we can go to the girls' bathroom later?"  
  
Tom's smile vanished, and he grabbed her hand, his face dangerously close to hers. "How do you know that the entrance in the girls' bathroom?" he demanded. Oops.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
AN: How do you like this chapter? Tell me!  
  
Dear Mrs.Shigwa.Cobain: Glad to know that. Now you know why she gave him her finger? *belchs*  
  
Dear Maraudertimes: Me too! I'm finally allowed to take my driving lessons...Dunno if that'll keep me busy..  
  
Dear Sonya Katz: *Laughs* hope you love this Mary Sue!  
  
Dear Miss Mina Murray: It's getting darker.....  
  
Dear HPfan: Are you sure you aren't my conscience? We're having the same thoughts! Find someone to back you up, and I'll stop writing for good, okay? 


	7. Fraternising with the enemy

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.  
  
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"There's nothing worse than death"  
  
-Lord Voldemort, Harry Potter and The Order of The Phoenix.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Hermione Granger bit her lip, and tried to stop her hands from  
shaking. Never show your fear in the eyes of the enemy, she chanted to  
herself. Her brain froze, and she thought hard for a believable answer  
that might satisfy Tom Riddle. He was still holding on to her hand, and  
trying to meet her avoiding eyes.  
  
"Well?" he hissed, bewildered. "Was it the worthless dirt, Hortense,  
that told you? I've never told anybody but you about that place, but I  
reckon that her snooping blasted nose had been poking into my affairs  
lately. She wanted to know why I needed her finger, after all. " They  
were under the table, and Hermione could see that someone had a  
mismatched shoe. She would've laughed, if the situation wasn't so tensed.  
I mustn't let him know that I'm from the future, she told herself. He'll  
torture me for information. Tom's cornflower blue eyes were still  
flashing, as she battled with her conscience about whether to blame  
Hortense or not. Should I save my own skin at the cost of exposing her to  
his rage? She remembered the way he treated Hortense earlier-he looked  
almost murderous when she merely laid her hand on his. He'll kill her,  
she realised.  
  
"Nobody told me," she snapped at him, throwing caution to the winds.  
As far as she knew, nobody snapped at Voldemort before. Not even  
Dumbledore. But Harry had, she remembered. He's exceptional.  
  
"Then how did you know?" he asked, confused. Hermione was bemused at  
the speed Tom's expression switched from anger to puzzlement. This is it,  
she told herself. Now we'll see what a good liar I am.  
  
"I-I saw a carving of a snake at on one of the taps in the bathroom,"  
she said calmly, but she cleverly avoided his eyes. Eye contact was  
essential in Legilimency. Tom seemed slightly impressed, but all he said  
was, "Go on,".  
  
"Every single part of Hogwarts is explored, except one. Salazar  
Slytherin's secret chamber," she said, looking at his shoes. She risked a  
glance at his face, and to her delight, he was smiling. A thin smile, but  
definitely a smile.  
  
"Now, Salazar's most famous trait is Parselmouth. I'm guessing that he  
left a....hint, to lead his heir to the chamber," Tom was definitely  
grinning now. "When you told me that you've found a secret hideout, my  
first guess is that you've found the chamber. And to find it, you had to  
pass Salazar's first test. You have to be a Parselmouth," she finished.  
Harry had told her that the Chamber of Secrets only opened when he spoke  
to the carving in Parseltongue. I hope that I got the facts right, she  
thought miserably. Or else...  
  
When she looked up, she was shocked to find that Tom's face was barely  
an inch away from hers. "I always knew that you are special," he  
whispered. "Nobody has figured out where the entrance is, yet. Hortense  
was stupid enough to think that somebody carved it there as a joke. As  
if," he spat. "I'm willing to bet my soul that Salazar carved it  
himself," he sneered. Hermione winced.  
  
"But you are different," he said, his eyes swerving back to her. She  
gulped. "You understood. And that's why...." He paused, surprising her  
with a passionate kiss. It was tender and vivid at the same time. It's  
wrong, she thought frantically, but how can I resist?  
  
The kiss ended. "That's why we should be together," he finished. It  
was not an offer.  
  
Hermione said nothing. Her mouth was still tingling, as it was the  
most sensational kiss ever. But it's Voldemort's kiss, she thought  
disgustedly. Or was it Toms? Johnson had gone as far as to suggest that  
she sleep with him, for the sake of changing history. That was downright  
ridiculous. But a kiss wouldn't matter, right? I have to gain his trust,  
she told herself. It's all for the sake of the wizarding world.  
  
But deep in her heart, Hermione felt wretchedly guilty. She may be  
blaming her friendly behaviour with Tom on making the sake of world a  
better place, but the horrible truth was that she had fallen for him. And  
the guilt was overwhelming. Ron would say that I'm.....fraternising with  
the enemy. And I am.  
  
"I'll take you to the sacred place tomorrow," he said, jolting her  
back to the present. "Then you can see what he's built for his heir.for  
me,"  
  
She brushed her bushy hair away from her eyes, and shook his hand off.  
It's forbidden, she thought. I can never love a murderer. But has he  
killed yet?  
  
Leaving Tom under the table, Hermione stood up, and rushed out of the  
Great Hall. The students were still eating, and nobody noticed her, as  
she ran away, away from Tom's call of "Wait!"  
  
***************************************  
  
Dumbledore folded his hands and surveyed Harry and Ron through his half  
moon glasses. "She's Diaspparated?"  
  
Ron leaped up from his chair and nodded his head vigourously. "That's  
what I'm saying," he said. "She told us to go ahead, but she never  
followed! I personally think that she's Disapparated,"  
  
Dumbledore smiled and walked to the smoky glass cabinet behind him.  
His wrinkly fingers landed on a brown and vermillion book, and Harry saw  
that it had the school's badge on it. Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus.  
  
The Headmaster gave the book to Ron, who staggered slightly under its  
weight. "I believe that you'll find Hogwarts: A History the perfect read  
for your weekends Ronald,' he said, winking knowingly at Harry. Ron  
realised too late that she couldn't have apparated on school grounds, and  
blushed crimson.  
  
Dumbledore lowered himself into his chair, and raised his eyebrows at  
Harry. "Are you certain?"  
  
Harry felt as though he was in one of those tv shows that his Uncle  
Vernon watched- the one where giving the wrong answer would cause you to  
lose a substantial amount of money. "Yes," he answered. "I believe that  
it's because of this book," he said, flinging the infernal ebony book on  
Dumbledore's desk.  
  
Dumbledore inspected the book for a few minutes, and his frown grew  
deeper. "And did I hear you say that a house elf gave this to her?" Harry  
nodded. But Dumbledore shook his head, as he stroked his long silver  
beard. "But no house elf would give Voldemort's possessions to students.  
They don't even own such cursed things,"  
  
Ron froze. "You mean that the book belongs to You Know Who?" he  
whispered, checking his fingers to see if any Dark Mark had appeared on  
them. Harry's eyes glinted oddly. A thought struck him. "Maybe she went  
back to the past, like I did,' he said. Once again, Dumbledore shook his  
head. "This isn't a diary, Harry. It's a coded Time Portkey. One can only  
use it, if a certain code is broken. It is my guess that Miss Granger had  
found the right word, that enabled her to be transported back," he said  
slowly. Harry felt a sour feeling in his stomach. Dumbledore sighed  
deeply. "She'll not merely be observing, as you did, Harry. She'll be  
there, bodily. People can see her, hear her....and hurt her."  
  
**************************************  
  
Hermione spent the night in the Room of Requirement, dreaming of her  
NEWTS. She knew every spell, every incantation, but halfway through her  
Arithmancy test, the examiner transformed into Tom, who said, "Why did  
you leave? I swore that I wouldn't die till I found you. I couldn't die,  
because of you. If death shall do us apart, then there's nothing worse  
that death!"  
  
It was a strange dream, and Hermione sensibly told herself that she  
would put an end to it. Walking into the Great Hall, she heard a girl  
saying excitedly, "He's playing today! He'll dedicate his catch to me, I  
know it,"  
  
Playing? Thought Hermione. Then realisation hit her. Quidditch! It was  
Quidditch season. Grabbing a piece of toast, Hermione headed to the  
Quidditch field, chewing hungrily. By the looks of it, it was Ravenclaw  
against Slytherin. The bread that she was chewing almost choked her when  
she saw the Slytherin Seeker. Dark haired, his head high, with a deadly  
competitive look in his eyes. Tom.  
  
Hermione felt a rush of adrenalin every time a goal was scored. But  
when she squinted her eyes, she saw that Tom had vague dark circles under  
his eyes. His usually sleek hair looked untidy, as though he hadn't  
combed it. It couldn't be, she thought. I'm too far away to see clearly.  
She concentrated instead on the brunette Ravenclaw Keeper, who was doing  
her best to block a Quaffle. She gasped, along with the other students,  
when the brunette used her head to bodily block it. Boy, thought  
Hermione, as the Quaffle thumped against the brunette's head. She must be  
dying to win!  
  
But halfway through the game, the excited cheers died down, replaced  
by confused mutterings. Hermione blinked when she was that Tom had  
descended to the ground, taking his wand out of his robes. The field was  
silent. She heard a pin dropped.  
  
Tom pointed his wand at his throat. "Sonorus!" he said. Hermione  
scratched her head. He couldn't have chosen a better moment to introduce  
his basilisk to everyone, she thought. It would kill many with its deadly  
stare, and with all eyes on the quidditch field, a massacre would be very  
easy.  
  
But instead, Tom's magnified voice came out sounding.....shy. He gave  
a little cough. "I apologize for interrupting this match," he sad, his  
eyes searching the crowd. "But there's something that I have to say.  
Now."  
  
I first saw you  
Yesterday  
And when you spoke  
I understood what others say about love  
It's strange but  
It's as though I've always loved you  
In lifetimes before  
And when you looked at me  
It's as though you've known me too  
And yet at times  
I'm afraid to look at you  
For I find  
Distrust in your eyes  
But  
I'll never stop  
I shan't succumb to anything  
Until you are mine  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
AN: Please, if you've read this chapter I need to know what you think!  
*looks exasperated* I feel like this is the worst chapter I've ever  
written, and it's so boring! I seriously agree with HPfan. 


	8. Realisations

Disclaimer: See chapter 1, please.  
  
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Hermione froze at his words. It was as though he knew, she thought, fear gripping her. The "I shan't succumb to anything" line showed that the first part of history had come true. Voldemort was seeking immortality......and she was the cause of it. He seeked the Philosopher's Stone, and drank Unicorn's blood. Am I responsible for the rest of his murderous life?  
  
She took out her wand, and fingered it carefully. What's the use of my fifteen OWLs? She thought angrily. Nothing that I've studied had prepared me for this. Brains and cleverness are useless now. I'm a know-it- all who doesn't know it all, she thought wryly.  
  
I'll talk to Johnson. He's the only one who believed me.  
  
************************  
  
"You must destroy him," said Johnson gravely. "Sure, your heart might have fluttered when you first met him and kissing him shows that you've got a 'thing' for that brat, but you still have to destroy him,"  
  
Hermione frowned angrily, and gritted her teeth. "I don't have a 'thing' for him," she said unconvincingly, and Johnson rolled his tiny eyes. "And if I do 'destroy' him, what then? I'll still be stuck here, wouldn't I? In a year where I'm not even born yet, and therefore, I have no identity whatsoever. And what'll happen when I'm born about 50 years later? Would there be two mes?"  
  
Johnson snorted derisively, as he scratched his goatee. "I thought that you had a sense of logic," he laughed. "You see, my dear," he explained patiently. "If you destroy Tom, the house elf wouldn't have given you his Time Portkey. Therefore, you wouldn't even be travelling to the past, which means that you wouldn't be stuck here," he said.  
  
His words brought a sense of hope to Hermione, who had been dreading the subject. So I would return to the present after all, she thought, her eyes shining. But less than a minute later, a horrible thought struck her clever mind. If history can be changed by travelling to the past and killing Tom, how come nobody's done it before? She thought, her hands shaking. Dumbledore could have turned the Time Travel hourglass anytime he wanted, but he didn't. Anybody could've turned the hourglass, and 'destroyed' Tom when he was a baby. But nobody did. Dumbledore or any Auror could've saved Harry's parents but they didn't. Why didn't they?  
  
Her heart hammered furiously, as realisation dawned on her. There must be a reason, she thought. A catch. And the Prophecy did say that only Harry can kill Voldemort. A second thought struck her, and her heart almost skipped a beat. How did Johnson know that the book was a Time Portkey? I didn't tell him that it was. In fact, I didn't even know that it was a Time Portkey. How did he know? She put two and two together, and gasped.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
AN: Well? What do you think? Less mushy and more mystery, or vice versa? Tell me!! *Hint: review*  
  
Dear Mrs.Shigwa.Cobain: Yep, that was a bad chapter. Sorry! *looks shamefaced*  
  
Dear Ariana Althena Evergreen: The chapter is one of my best?? *smiles delightedly* Thanx for your kind words!  
  
Dear Jo-Jo: Er..I don't know if this chapter would still be 'adorable'. It seems to have gone slightly darker.  
  
Dear Miss Mina Murray: As always, you're the best.  
  
Dear Lady Evenescense: He did stop the game to say that, yep! But knowing how cunning Voldemort really is, he might have some other intentions, too, to win Hermione's heart.  
  
Dear Dragoness Kaei: I'm continuing, I'm continuing! *laughs*  
  
Dear Sonya Katz: *looks pensive* To answer your mind-boggling question, I would have to say that no, Harry would still have survived. I personally think that even if he did learn to love, the shield that Lily gave her son would still affect him. It doesn't mean that just because Voldemort loved someone else, he would be able to breach the protection that a mother gave by sacrificing herself. True, if there's one thing that Voldemort cannot understand, it's love. But Lily's mark and Tom learning to love are two different matters. Besides, now we know that Voldemort can touch Harry without getting hurt, right? After he took Harry's blood for his rebirth (Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire). Correct me if I'm wrong :)  
  
Dear LadyKaresse : I've written more, and I hope you'll like it! *looks hopeful* 


	9. Betrayed And Cheated

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1, please.  
  
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"Voldemort himself would mark him as his equal."  
  
Professor Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
AN: In this fanfic, I assumed that Harry Potter really is the boy that the Prophecy spoke of. Not Neville Longbottom. So, if Neville suddenly becomes Voldemort's 'equal' in Book 6 or 7, then I guess this fic is baseless.  
  
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"Johnson?" asked Hermione shakily. Her bushy hair was unruly, and her eyes red-rimmed from deprived sleep, but she neither cared nor noticed. Right now, she needed to confirm her theory, a hypothesis that struck her painfully like a bolt of lightning when he mentioned 'Tom's Time Portkey'.  
  
The wizard scratched his pointed chin, and wiggled his eyebrows humorously at her. "What?" he asked genially, but to Hermione, it had a tinge of slyness in it. Even his eyes seemed to shine with treachery now, she thought heatedly. "More questions?"  
  
"Actually yes," she answered casually. It was crucial to act as normal as she could, and as unassuming as possible. If I get it right, he'll be spilling his guts out, she thought. But....I hope that I'm wrong. Or I might lose my only ally in this stupid year. "Johnson," she said, very carefully but offhandedly. "Don't you just hate Tom for spitting at her?" She held her breath, and as soon as he spoke, her ears picked every word up carefully.  
  
Just as she thought, the skinny figure nodded vigorously. "Of course," he said. "But she shouldn't have touched him-he hates Hufflepuffs. He only needed Hortense for her clairvoyance, and for her finger of course", he chuckled. The silence that followed was not only profound, but dreadful. Then-  
  
"I never said that the girl was Hortense," said Hermione, her voice rising shrilly. She threw Professor Dippet a glance-he was snoozing-and turned back to Johnson. She balled her fists so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Her breathing seemed constricted, but she managed to blurt out, "Johnson? Have you been speaking with Tom? Discussing secrets, maybe?"  
  
"Yes, you did," he faltered, twiddling his thumbs. "You told me that it was Hortense, yes you did," At that moment, Hermione realised how Tom must have felt when she accidentally let slip that the entrance to the secret chamber was in the girls' bathroom. Confused, suspicious, betrayed, and slightly incensed. But unlike Tom, she thought grimly, I'm not going to believe whatever story he's making up in his cunning little head right now. Closing her eyes in regret, Hermione cursed her misfortune. Her only believer was unveiled as a deceiver.  
  
"I-did-not," she snapped sharply. Who was he kidding? She placed both hands on his frame and shook it roughly. "And you seem so eager for me to kill Tom too. Not to mention egging me on to enter the chamber. And how did you even know that the Time Portkey belonged to You-know-who? How did you know that it was a Time Portkey in the first place?"  
  
Johnson only avoided her glittering, wrathful, hurt eyes. In Hermione's opinion, he looked very shifty all of a sudden. Like a slithering Slytherin, she noted. He was a Parselmouth after all.....I should've realised that it was a bad sign. The only 'decent' Parselmouth that I know is Harry Potter.  
  
But Hermione did not need his answers. They were most likely to be blatant lies anyway, she gritted. Her theory was confirmed. He wasn't helping her. He was helping Tom Riddle. "You egged me on because you WANTED me to meet the basilisk. You knew that there was no escape, once I was in the chamber. You want me dead, don't you?" she shouted hotly. Johnson only remained silent. His passiveness half-verified her presumption. He was double-crossing her.  
  
"Lately, I had this feeling that Tom seemed to want to get a little..closer. I wondered why. I'm not a vixen, and it was incredibly unbelievable of him to cast Hortense away for someone like-like me. Then, I realised that he might have found out that I have something he wants. By gaining my trust, he would be able to learn of his future, wouldn't he? Then he would meticulously lay down new plans, so as to avoid repeating his mistakes. In fact, he's acting really friendly for the same reason as I am. We're both doing undercover work! That explains why he ditched Hortense. After all, true facts are always better than premonitions, right?" she rambled, her breath coming out in short gasps.  
  
Johnson stared stonily at her, but Hermione ignored him. His cover was blown, and if I'm right, she thought shrewdly, so is mine. Panic flooded her mind, but she sensibly told herself to remain level-headed. She had to choose her next words very carefully.  
  
"But then I asked myself. How could he have known my secret? I never told him. No one else knew. No one but Professor Dippet, who doesn't believe it anyway, while the other.....being you," she continued, narrowing her eyes. "You told him everything. You're both Parselmouths. Could it be possible that you have been passing messages to him through his big, dirty serpent in the pipes?"  
  
Johnson shook his head so violently that for a while, his two- dimensional head was only a blur. Hermione snorted at his theatrics. "And you haven't told me one thing, Johnson. The part about the Prophecy? You- know-who chose Harry as his equal because I said so, didn't he? I told you that Harry was the Boy Who Lived. From my words, he concluded that Harry was more worthy as an opponent, didn't he? In fact, everything that I've told you revolves around Harry Potter! Is that why Harry's name is on the prophecy, not Neville's? It's confusing, I know, but you won't find it very hard to understand, I'm sure!" she almost shouted in frustration. Professor Dippet stirred, but continued to snore.  
  
It's my fault that You-know-who chose Harry, she thought dismally. I practically told Tom his life story! Dumbledore said that Vol-You-know-who chose Harry because he thought that he was more likely to be a danger to him. I said that Harry had escaped him more than four times! I only got as far as the rebirth...I haven't said anything about our fifth year yet..but how much damage is already done? Had I ruined everything? Will Voldemort have the upper hand now? What's going on in the future? Will I be stuck here?  
  
Seeing the look of misery on Hermione's face, Johnson smiled. But it wasn't a smile of amusement, or one of warmness, for the smile did not reach his eyes. It was a smile of triumph. Like a caterpillar that turned into a butterfly, Johnson shed his smokescreen, and transformed into a new wizard. Only he didn't become a butterfly. He became something a lot more ominous. Like a green mamba that turned black, thought Hermione. "You're a clever witch," he said, curling one stick-like finger around his moustache. It was amazing how he managed to morph from eccentric-but-good to cunning- and-triumphant in less than five minutes, she thought. The laughing, comforting look in his eyes was gone, replaced by the coldness of ice. Johnson let out a high, frosty laugh, in a voice that was quite unlike his old one. Hermione swallowed. She was right. She had lost her only ally.  
  
"Come closer, my dear, you deserve an explanation," he laughed silkily, his beetle-black, slitted eyes full of amusement. "Come closer, and listen to the tale of your failure."  
  
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AN: I hope this chapter is understandable, because the next one will probably be more complicated. Tell me if you can't figure anything out, don't understand what's going on, or that I'm writing in a foreign language. I've to admit that this is really erratic and stupid, I mean, one moment it's fluff and romance, and then, it's all gloomy and grey.  
  
Dear Mrs.Shigwa.Cobain: I'm not sure if this one even qualifies for a "Dreadful"! But tell me, because I Love your reviews! *does a crazy dance*  
  
Dear Woodelf193: Thank you! I feel better after reading what you said! *grins*  
  
Dear silver-dragon60: You do?  
  
Dear warriorangel15: Glad to know that I'm not alone. Woohoo!  
  
Dear UNormalMonkey: Sorry! I hope you're not further confused by this one! *begs for forgiveness*  
  
Dear Miss Mina Murray: Whoa! That's so....nice. *wipes a tear* This one's for you,  
  
Dear Samantha-Carlyn: Don't be sorry! *looks bewildered* It's entirely my fault, that this fic is so forgettable! I know that my plot is a cliché, and everything's so stereotyped that anyone reading it would probably have the ending figured out in less than a minute! Heck, even Hortense was a Mary Sue! But thanks for reading, anyway! By the way, you'd be beet red if somebody did what?  
  
Dear Sonya Katz: Not exactly Back To The Future. *strokes her chin thoughtfully* Johnson didn't actually intended for her to kill Tom-he just needed to assure her that if she did, she wouldn't be stuck there. And about timelines being one or separated? I'll elaborate further on that in the chapter, "Time of the Ghost". Yep! Time travel kind of frazzles the mind! But it's too late now to throw this fic away, right? I hope that I'll be able to wrap things up nicely. *bites her lower lip nervously* Oh, and if you have more mystifying questions about the huge, glaring gaps in this humble fic, shoot!  
  
Dear Jo-jo: I made your day even suckier?? *widens eyes* Well, I'm super sorry, and that's why this chapter isn't a cliffy! And I really don't think that my story deserves to be defined as an insomnia-pill! It has gone over to the boring, predictable side.  
  
Dear Dragonbrat:, what you said made me feel that..well, maybe I should stop trying to deny that I wrote this lousy thing ( 


	10. Salazar's Heir: Murdered By Basilisk

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1, please. Oh, and by the way, I only own Johnson....And I'm very ashamed of it.  
  
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"I, in whose veins runs the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself, through my mother's side?"  
  
-Tom Marvolo Riddle, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.  
  
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Hermione bit her lip so hard, as she took a step closer to Johnson's portrait, that for a while, she tasted blood. But her nerves seemed to have numbed themselves, and she ignored the pain. But there was a certain stabbing, intense pain that she couldn't ignore. It was the sort of pain that Harry felt, when he discovered that he had trusted an impostor. Mad- Eye Moony's impostor. And the putrid stench of deceit was wafting thickly in the room. That was harder to overlook.  
  
"Clever, yes, but not intelligent enough," laughed Johnson. "You have lost, witch. History cannot be changed merely by time travelling, or the world would be....topsy-turvy, my dear," he sneered. "Everything happens in a cycle. Your actions in the past will haunt you when you return. Sometimes, you even end up worsening the situation....like what you just did, Gangly," he sneered, showing a row of rather pointy teeth, Hermione wondered why she didn't noticed his dark smile, that seemed to laugh at her before. I must be blind, she told herself angrily. Either that, or I'm just plain naïve.  
  
"Yes, time hourglasses do exist, but their usages are closely monitored by the guardians of time. In layman's term, the confounded Ministry of Magic, and a roomful of half-breeds. Besides, as far as I am concerned, there is only one such magical artefact that remains. The other one was....broken. I remember you saying something about saving Harry's godfather with it illegally? My, my," he said, with mock admiration. "You must have some very strong connections, mustn't you? Only if permission is granted.....willingly, by the Chief Warlock of Wizengamot, may it be used, undetected." Johnson hissed. "Dumbledore, I presume?"  
  
Hermione turned more than a shade paler, as her mind processed the information that Johnson had just given. Her heart was threatening to burst its way out of her chest, and a gigantic lump rose in her throat. Dumbledore was the one who told me to use the hourglass, she thought, a sour feeling spreading in her stomach unpleasantly, as she clutched her chest in pain. When I get back-if I ever get back- I'll ask him why didn't he use it...to kill Tom.  
  
"Tom might be Salazar's only heir....other than me, of course," he said silkily. "But I died, killed by Salazar's very own sentinel. I had just invented some untraceable venom, when it slithered into my office. I was careless, and it slipped my mind that I was supposed to....feed it that particular night. I was not as charismatic or Greek God-like, like Tom and no witch was willing to so much as give me a lock of her hair, not to mention flesh," he smiled thinly.  
  
Hermione brushed some droplets that had formed unconsciously at the corner of her eyes, and noticed that he was a little vampiric, with his thin, bent body and glowing eyes. She swallowed nervously, when, for a fleeting moment, something like psychosis glinted in those vivid orbs. Hermione had never seen Voldemort before, but from Harry's description, she felt as though Johnson fitted the fallen wizard's profile perfectly. The portrait was in black and white, but if it was coloured, she could almost imagine the flaring nostrils and scarlet eyes glaring at her. She wondered if all of Salazar's heirs looked like that.  
  
"To put it short, it didn't trust me, and, you know how deadly its stare is. But the others thought that I died because of my potion.....my death was never properly looked into, for I was not extremely....liked. The fools....," he said softly, sending goose bumps up Hermione's back. "When I died, I knew that a new heir would materialise, about half a century later. No two heirs can exist at once, Salazar once warned. Just as Harry and Tom couldn't live, while the other survives. So, I kept a lookout, for someone, who might just complete what we had left unfinished."  
  
"When Tom first entered Hogwarts, his brightness, bitterness and shrewdness caught my eye. I immediately felt an affinity for him, when I......sensed Salazar's blood in him. How I knew, was similar to the way a boomslang's awareness of its prey is triggered. The ability to speak in Parseltongue isn't my only gift, you know," said Johnson with a proud look. He's a snake, she thought. He's a black mamba, a cobra, and a boomslang all rolled into one. Hermione clasped her palms together-they were becoming colder as the seconds passed. His words, combined with the low, dark tone in which he spoke, had a perverse effect on her.  
  
"Like you, he found various excuses to enter the Headmaster's office, to speak with me. It was not particularly difficult, as he was Dippet's favourite boy. He's also a Parselmouth, and I was convinced that if there was one person who could complete Salazar's work, it would be him. But I remained cold and distant, as I wanted him to be filled with hatred. Hatred fuels the soul, you know. No muggle lover could continue Salazar's work, to rid Hogwarts of muggle-borns. I fed his impressionable young head with Hitler's......glories. I made him see how The Ripper's murders helped 'cleanse' the streets of London. I showed him the thrills and exhilarations of mass massacre, and what sheer power can bring. And it was I that awoken him to the fact that Salazar Slytherin's blessed blood flew in his very veins. He told me that his father was a muggle. That was why I concluded that he inherited Salazar's traits trough his mother. "  
  
Hermione opened her mouth, but no words escaped from her lips. Her tongue felt as dry as a cactus, but that was not the point. Her throat was closing up because Johnson had just admitted that he groomed Tom. So it was Johnson who had moulded Voldemort? A portrait gave birth to the most evil wizard of all time? He was the one who distorted Tom's mind, and made Tom see the sadistic, malevolent dictator in an.......honourable light? She wondered if Tom Marvolo Riddle was simply born evil, or did Johnson had a hand in it. It doesn't matter, she told herself. When the time comes.......history will be changed, prophecy or no prophecy. As her mind raced, trying to find a way to undo her mistakes, and perhaps, to return to where she truly belongs, Hermione realised that she was trembling. Uncontrollably.  
  
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-Next time: Unexpected Reactions.  
  
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AN: Review, pretty please? At least I'll know that someone's reading my humble fic :)  
I write because you're reading it, you know. Let's see if I can get 10 reviews!  
  
Dear Dragonbrat: You're my first reviewer for Chapter 10!! I've reached 10 chapters!! Never thought that I would actually continue this...this...this thing. *shakes your hand enthusiastically* Actually, more like Chapter 9, because chapter 3's just a note!  
  
Dear DragonessKaei: Nah! Not ya fault for missin' two updates! More like mah fault, for writin' sucha' borin' story that can't sustain ya interest! *bows apologetically* BTW, if Rowling suddenly decides that Neville's the 'one', I'll stamp on the books, then burn them.  
  
Dear Ariana Althena Evergreen: I didn't mind your hot words....Spew out some more, if it makes you feel better! :) He's getting worse by the day! Love ya!  
  
Dear Mrs.shigwa.cobain: Really? I'm smiled like an idiot when I read your review. Hey, I've just realised: You've been reviewing my story since chapter 1! If I could send you a gift or something, I would. (not a virus, of course!) Oh, yeah, that story was posted twice. I removed it, as I decided to concentrate on this one. But then.......what a waste, right? So now, I've to start from scratch, because all the nice reviews were removed as well :(  
  
Dear Yukura: Thank you, deah!  
  
Dear Samantha-Carlyn: Professor Dippet is mean? Feel free to express yourself. I'm not the language police :-D  
  
Dear UNnormalMonkey: Um....I hope I get this right-Jo0jo likes your name.  
  
Dear Maraudertimes: You're back! *throws a handful of confetti* Missed you! Oh, and remember the secret weapon I asked you to guess? Don't worry, she's still gonna use it.  
  
Dear Sonya Katz: At last! A chapter that passes your grade! *does a tribal Zulu war dance* Look harder, especially for the coming chapters, because I'm trying to explain something that I'm not even sure of! *Time of The Ghost is postponed until Johnson is done with his explaining*  
  
Dear Miss Mina Murray: You never fail to make me feel....appreciated.  
  
Dear LadyKarasse: How do you like this one?  
  
Dear Jo-jo: I'm glad that I made your day. Really, you're like a live volcano, aren't you? One moment I'm blasted off my pc for a cliffy, the next, I'm being cheered up. But I love hearing from you, flames or not. Yeah....Christmas is quite near, so I think I'll post a few chapters before you go off and celebrate. Just so that you can party in peace. A Mary Sue is (I asked) a character who possesses admirable physical traits, and often have some sort of special ability as well. Most of the time, she will have boys falling at her feet. It's bad, yeah. Hortense is my Mary Sue. She's gorgeous, and she can predict the future. But, well, what story is complete without a MS?  
  
Dear Sallymander: Scary, huh? Maybe I should change the genre to horror....nah! There're some action scenes coming up before the final act.  
  
Dear *A certain classmate* : If you're reading this, then you've found my fanfic. Just....don't feel disgusted, okay? I know that I'm not as good as crescent_illusion/stardust_352, but, well, not everyone can write like her, no? Oh, and if you think that the TR/HG thing is icky, I don't blame you. I can't believe that I took up a fellow fanfic writer's challenge to create a story about them! What have I gotten myself into? :-D 


	11. Unexpected Reactions

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1, please.  
  
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"You-you," she breathed, her heart pumping furiously. "You corrupted him! Adolf Hitler is a monster.....and you made him Tom's idol?"  
  
Johnson stared at her pointedly in the eye, unflinchingly. "Yes, I did, and I do not regret it. Tom is well on his way to revolutionise the wizarding world, and you are not going to stop him," he warned.  
  
Hermione's nails were digging into her palms, but she barely noticed it. Johnson had started to speak again, in a silky, cunning, lilting voice.  
  
"The basilisk's trust had to be gained, before he could control it. You asked why I was so eager for you to 'destroy' him. Truth is, you can't. You are not in the position to. There are such things as true Prophecies. But I couldn't afford to appear to be on his side, could I?" sneered Johnson.  
  
Hermione stood transfixed by Johnson's glowing eyes, like a mouse frozen in terror, waiting for the cobra to strike. But he has already struck, she thought. His piercing, merciless words penetrated her, as Hermione's two days in the past unfolded before her very eyes. Two horrendous days of deception.  
  
"And I knew, as soon as you told me about that book, how it looked like, what you said when you tapped it with your wand, I knew that it was a Time Portkey. How could I not," he said darkly, "When it belonged to me. I told him where to find it, just a few months ago. You should see the look on his face when he.......inherited it. For many years, since I first laid my eyes on Tom, I amused myself by waiting patiently, to see if he had the brilliance to discover the Chamber of Secrets. It took him years to find it...I didn't drop a single hint, as I had to be absolutely certain that he was Salazar Slytherin's heir. And yes, we did communicate in Parseltongue through Valar....after he learnt to control her, of course. But Tom chose Harry based on reasons only he knows," he hissed.  
  
"Do you know, Miss Gangly, that when I heard that you were the first person to know that Tom had discovered Salazar's chamber, I could have torn off my moustache? That delinquent actually gave in to his feelings, his flimsy, insignificant feelings. Feelings make you do knightly, noble, foolish things. You assumed that he only wanted to get 'closer' for the sake of information. Darling, you're only half right. During unguarded moments, Tom confessed that.........he had never felt like that before. With youth comes foolishness. But I put him in the right track after that....."  
  
Hermione had to bite her lip to keep herself from smiling. Though she was afraid and panic was gaining momentum in her, the snippet of knowledge that Tom "had never felt like that before" cheered her up a little. But just a little.  
  
"But you're a just a crystal ball for us, little girl......."  
  
Hermione's hands were shaking, and she felt her face's temperature rise by a few degrees. I was used, she thought angrily. Brains, cleverness and logic? I'm just a puppet.....his crystal ball. And he sounded so sincere, Tom. Was I really foolish enough to believe that sneak, and thought that I actually had a chance of leaving this cursed timeline? God help me, she thought, breathing rapidly. And he's named the basilisk Valar? She heard Johnson whisper, "Dumbledore's future Headmaster? How unfortunate. He's such a muggle-lover."  
  
Without a word, Hermione pushed the door open, kicked the gargoyle outside and leaned against the door, taking deep breaths. She had heard enough to last her three lifetimes. A solitary drop of colourless liquid trickled down her left cheek. I should be studying for my NEWTS, or even organising some fund-raising for SPEW, she thought, shame and fear engulfing her. Hitta.....Hitta gave me this one-way ticket to hell. Are house elves really as innocent and oppressed, I as thought?  
  
Suddenly, she realised that once again, she had acted without thinking. I left Johnson in there, she fumed. He would definitely tell Tom that I found out about their little pact, and I'll be murdered in my sleep. Wiping her eyes on the sleeves of her robes, she sniffed a little. But a faint smile was tugging at her white lips, as she realised that Tom had told her about the secret chamber BEFORE she blabbed to Johnson that she held the book-of- what's-to-come. And.....he kept the stone that I flung at him. Is he really after my secrets, after all? But I'm not taking any chances, whether he really meant what he claimed, or otherwise. She stormed back in, after saying "Apple Pie!", snatched her wand out of her pocket, pointed it at Johnson, and said, "Silencio!"  
  
There, she thought, as the little figure let out an inaudible roar of rage. Now, you will speak no more. She had obtained an 'Exceeds Expectations' for Charms. But she was a little unsatisfied by merely silencing him. His words had done more damage to her than the blood-thirstiest rouge bludger that Dobby could ever find. Stealing a glance at the snoozing headmaster, Hermione carefully took Johnson's portrait off the wall.  
  
I'll throw you in the fire," she whispered fiercely, and she hurried to the fireplace, where hot flames were literally leaping out from the logs. Eternal fire, she thought, a feeling of satisfaction striking her raw emotions. She flung the infernal painting to the devouring, eager blaze, and watched as Johnson was consumed by the orange inferno.  
  
But an unexpected image flashed across Johnson's face, an instant before the painting turned to ashes, before it was fully cremated by the spitting vermillion fire. Hermione stopped breathing for a second, as her brain interpreted the look on his visage. The look was so unanticipated from a creature that was about to be destroyed that Hermione could not comprehend what she had just seen. Johnson had smiled. He had smiled the smile of a man whose dreams had come true. Hermione's eyes widened, and she was horror- struck. Why did he smile? It couldn't be, she thought, as though trying desperately to convince herself that Johnson was gone for good. It couldn't be.....could it?  
  
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"You heard Dumbledore," scowled Ron, his thin fingers tracing the letter 'H' on Hogwarts: A History. Harry and Ron were trying to finish their Charms homework in the Gryffindor common room. Needless to say, neither was putting in much effort. "No looking for her. It's too dangerous. Brilliant," he muttered. Ron's other hand was unconsciously punching his armchair with heartfelt strength. "Dumbledore will see what he can do."  
  
Most students had gone back for Christmas, but Harry and Ron didn't felt like returning. Harry, especially, loathed the idea of entering Number Twelve, Grimauld's Place. He did not trust himself to act civilized when Kreacher was around. Old wounds run deep. Besides, the sheer thought of Sirius stung him. The proverb boys don't cry is a stupid myth, he thought angrily.  
  
Harry stood up, brushing away thoughts of his late godfather and his bushy-headed friend. It was late, anyway, he thought gloomily. "Well, I guess I should-"  
  
But he was rudely cut off by a flushed Ronald Weasley. "You?" said Ron a little loudly. "Why does it always have to be you? Blimey, mate, just because you survived You-Know-Who's death curse a million times, doesn't mean that you can save her. Give someone else a chance, will you?" he half- shouted, and his eyes all but glared at Harry.  
  
A muscle tightened in Harry's right cheek, but he controlled himself with massive effort. He felt like hexing his freckled friend, and cursing him with the worst words. Their friendship had been tested many times; when Harry became the fourth Champion for the Triwizard Tournament, and again, when Ron was chosen as Prefect. But none of those events put their bond to trial as much as that very second.  
  
"I was going to say that I should get some sleep," said Harry very quietly. He turned his anguished face away from Ron's, as looking at the gangly teenager standing in front of him brought up feelings of intense hatred. As though an unknown force in him was urging him to seize the moment, and incapacitate Weasley.  
  
Ron's face turned crimson, and he seemed to be radiating with heat of shame. The colour spread to his neck, and ears, giving him the comical appearance of a certain sour red fruit. "Oh, sorry, mate," he muttered. "I was so carried away that, well, you know, Hermione and all, she's our, uh, friend," he mumbled intelligibly.  
  
But Harry had had enough. Something that Ron had said, sandwiched between his hurtful, accusing words, had given Harry a snippet of insight into Ron's true feelings. He read between the lines, and sighed.  
  
"You wanted me to give someone else a chance, didn't you?" he asked. Ron's face was impassive, devoid of any trace of emotion. "Do you mind telling me; exactly who did you have in mind?"  
  
Discord was beginning to weave its web of chaos through their friendship. And they both knew it.  
  
************************************  
  
For the second time, Hermione exited Professor Dippet's office. She leaned against the wall, anaesthetized by trepidation, and dread of what is to come. Johnson was happy, she thought. Why was he happy?  
  
Get a grip on yourself, Hermione, she scolded. Losing your head would only bring you a step closer to the gates of hell. She swallowed when she heard the familiar clicking of a pair of modest but impeccably polished black shoes. Hermione hurriedly dabbed at her face, and prayed that there was absolutely no trace of blood on her bitten lips.  
  
When she turned around, Hermione was drenched by shock, and she almost felt a pang of sympathy for Tom. His blue jewel-like eyes had lost their dazzling sparkle, and his steps were slow and reluctant, as though he was forcing himself to drag his slumped figure along. Instead of a straight- backed Prefect, Hermione saw a boy who had a look of utter defeat about him. His left hand clutched a struggling Snitch, while the other grasped a weather-beaten looking broomstick.  
  
It was a stark contrast, compared to the haughty, self-confident Slytherin that Hermione had almost fallen for. Up close, she realised that the dark circles under his eyes were indeed real, and the shadow of a boy lost and pressured lingered around him. For a second, his crushed eyes met hers, but she quickly hers turned away.  
  
Tom Marvolo Riddle? Voldemort Junior?  
  
Hermione was puzzled by the way he passed her wordlessly, his gaze glued to the ground. Comprehension dawned on her, when she realised that she had not given him an answer, to his poem earlier. In fact, all the signs that she had been sending out were screaming: stay away from me.  
  
With a heavy heart, Hermione contemplated calling out to him, perhaps using an inquiry about the outcome of the Quidditch match as an excuse to hear his voice. But something stopped her, before a word barely escaped her lips. It was not intuition or shyness that held her tongue. Instead, it was a sudden drop of temperature, a feeling of being watched, that made the hairs on the back on her neck prickled uneasily.  
  
Hermione knew what she was about to lay her eyes on, even before she turned to face the creature that had somehow managed to materialised stealthily. Standing, or perhaps floating balefully and silently behind her, was the Bloody Baron.  
  
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I'm dreaming of a white Christmas,  
  
With an adorned tree and a blazing fire;  
  
I'm dreaming of the supreme happiness,  
  
That I'll feel, when you review my chapter; 


	12. Time Of The Ghost

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1, please.

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"He will not come back. He will have………..gone on."

-Nearly Headless Nick, Harry Potter And The Order Of The Phoenix.

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"I know nothing of the secrets of death,"

-Nearly Headless Nick, Harry Potter And The Order Of The Phoenix

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**TIME OF THE GHOST.******

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          "You do not belong here," came a quiet voice, accompanied by a silent stare. A jolt of pure electricity rushed up Hermione's spine, racing through her neurons. _The Bloody Baron knows,_ she thought. Her feelings were a fusion of fear and relief, but more of the former than the later, for it was no jolly guardian angel that she was looking at. On the contrary, nothing could be more ominous than the silvery blood-drenched creature in front of her. 

          "No," she whispered. "I don't."

          But as her heart thumped at his cryptic words, she found herself wondering, if the ghost would deceive her just as Johnson did. The chilling smile on his face, during his last moments still spooked her, and she prayed that she need not discover the reason of his joy. _What sort of person is happy to be burnt? Does that mean that he is finally going to…………..no. I don't want to think about it. It is impossible._

_          The blank stare was still present on the ghost's face, but for a moment, just a nanosecond, she could have sworn that a look of recognition was flashed. Neither said anything for five whole minutes, but as the sixth minute passed, Hermione could not stand it any longer. As a mortal, she did not have all the time in the universe to play staring games._

          "How do you know?" she blurted out, as she rubbed her palms. The temperature seemed to be dropping by the second, and it did not help that the Bloody Baron's translucent apparition numbed her nerves. 

          The answer was simple, but no more coherent than his first sentence.

          "I am a ghost."

          "And?"

          "And time means nothing to spirits."

          Hermione felt cheated. The wraith's responses were downright unrevealing. They told her absolutely nothing that she needed. Like how to return. Or how to stop Tom. Or why Johnson's mouth had twisted into a smile at last minute. Fine. He wants to play simple? She, too, uttered an elementary, single-syllable question. "So?"

          The Bloody Baron gave her a long, expressionless look. Hermione had the sudden impression that she was gazing at a deadpan, inscrutable corpse. In a way, I am, she thought bitterly. But he has started to speak. And that was her main focus.            

           "It is all happening simultaneously for creatures immortal. We are dead. We've escaped the boundaries of time. We have died, our bodies destroyed, and yet our existence prevails. Past, present, for us, it is just a simple cognizance of the mind. For the living, it is real. For the dead, it is perception. I can see the present, past, and future. You may consider yourself in the past, but I exist concurrently."

          Hermione frowned a little. _Was that how Nearly Headless Nick knew that Sirius was never going to come back? He seemed so sure, when he told Harry that Sirius would go on,_ she thought uneasily. _It is as though he knew__. __As though……………..he had seen the future.__ A future without Sirius. But a second thought struck her._

            "If being a ghost means that you know what timeline I'm from," she began, "How come no other has approached me? Nearly Headless Nick simply avoids me, while the Fat Friar treats me like any other student. Why makes you so special? _Sir?"_

          The Bloody Baron's eyes were vacant, but intent. _It was very hypnotizing to stare into those orbs, and not lose your mind, thought Hermione. She was broken, stung, deceived, and downright frightened, but she pressed on_. I need to get out of here. He's a ghost. By helping me, he has nothing to lose……..or gain. __

_          "They are cowards, who play by the rules," came an ethereal voice. His mouth barely moved, but Hermione knew who had spoken. No one else's words had the unpleasant, quivering effect on her. No one, save for a certain abominable, perished portrait. _I hope he stays perished,_ thought Hermione._

          "Rules? What rules?"

          "The rules that govern those who chose immortality."

          Hermione clenched her teeth. It was extremely frustrating, to speak to a ghost, she thought angrily. They were just running around in circles, and that conversation was not taking her anywhere. If anything, she was even more confused than when she first started out. Her fear and reverence for him all but disappeared, but she knew that to stalk away like a rebel-without-a –cause would be her downfall. But she hated stalling.

          "So you've got rules. Do you mind telling me what they're about?" she pressed, her curiosity substantial enough to rival the nosiness of Rita Skeeter.

          But the Bloody Baron only gave an infuriating gesture. He shook his head. Hermione had to restrain herself from howling. "None of us are allowed to reveal the Secrets. You will have to become one of us to find out, mortal," he said. It meant that she had to be _dead_.

          Hermione cursed inwardly. _Was that why Nick had told Harry that he "Knew nothing of the secrets of death"? He was not allowed to disclose them? Her mind raced._

          "So why tell me?" she demanded. _I'm going to die anyway_, she thought, a little foolishly. _So I don't care if I've offended him. "Why tempt me with your words? It is shameless, how you offer me hope, and before I know it, you snatch that piece of faith away with your fluid fingers. Why are you telling me these?" she almost shouted. The emotion in her voice gathered momentum, and threatened to explode. _I'm better off without these so-called allies. __

          Before she had time to turn away, head to the bathroom and scream blue murder, seven words were spoken, by the unmoving mouth. Seven words that offered a slice of optimism for her worn-out soul, and yet, it was those seven words that may rip the last crumbs of perseverance away from Hermione Granger.

_          "Because mere regulations do not affect me."_

******************************************

          Tom Marvolo Riddle squeezed his eyes shut, as he sank into an uncomfortable chair in the Slytherin common room. _Hermione,_ he thought. _I thought that you understood. Apparently, I was mistaken. _

          His long fingers slipped into his pocket, re-emerging with a stone in them. He stroked the smooth rock, and his thoughts envisaged a certain Prefect's cheeks. _The world is a forsaken place, and you too, have let me down. It is just as he says……….there is no good or bad. Right or wrong. Conscience or profit. Only those who know how to turn things to his benefit deserve a place in this world. You almost changed that notion, when you taught me that there are things worth living for. _

          As those sentimental thoughts disapparated, Tom's face became the epitome of evil. _Almost. He said a word, a profound word of hatred in Parseltongue, and somewhere in Hogwarts, year 1942, a gigantic, deadly creature stirred. _It is time.   __

_______________________________________________________________

Em: Hello? *no one answers*

          I'm not sure if anyone is reading this, but if you are, I'd like to wish you a Merry Christmas! Whee! Have a nice one! Here's a silly poem for you to criticize. 

          **Christmas Eve.******

****

**            I tiptoe downstairs and see,**

**            Oh, a lovely, green and red tree;**

**            Then I smile, and say a little prayer,**

**            That you too, will be as happy as me.**

****

****


	13. 10 Commandments of Salazar Slytherin Par...

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1, please.

______________________________________________________________

**The Ten Commandments Of Salazar Slytherin. (Part 1)**

**________________________________________________________**

****

          "So," said Hermione, her voice barely above a whisper. She could not even hear her own voice, against the thunderous banging of her heart against her ribcage. "You will help me?" 

          The Bloody Baron remained unspeaking, but it was the unmistakable, universal movement that he made, that evoked a silent cheer of relief from Hermione.

          He nodded. It was a curt, downward movement of his head, nothing dramatic, but it was a nod. A deal had been made. A pact between the living and dead. I_ hope it'll prove to be better than my previous collaboration with a painting, Hermione thought. __That was disastrous._

          She could have hugged him, if he wasn't the spectre that he was. 

          "And, what do you suggest?" she asked eagerly. The silvery blood that stained him still sent goose bumps up her spine, but she decided to overlook that. She was about to delve into the realm of the forbidden, and not even the sinister, unicorn-like fluid would deter her. "If you exist concurrently, can you tell your future self to ask Dumbledore for help?"

          The Bloody Baron stared at her for three whole minutes, before shaking his head.

          "Why not?"

          "Dumbledore already knows."

          Hermione frowned. _Then why isn't he coming for me? He has a time turner, doesn't he? Or………don't tell me that one's broken too. Or, maybe he hasn't found the password that activated the portkey._

          _Okay, thought Hermione, a little frustrated. _We're back to running around in circles. So far, no luck.__

          "There is a way, that you have yet to find," he suddenly said. Hermione jumped a little. She had been contemplating his sanity, and hers too, when the ethereal, monotonous voice spoke. 

          "A way? What? Where? How? When? Who?" she demanded. I _may be brash, blunt and crass, but I'm desperate,_ she told herself, mentally excusing herself for her discourtesy. _Even George Washington would put aside his impeccable manners, if he was in my shoes._

          "There is a time turner, an hourglass. You may use it."

          Hermione's heart sank. _It's probably locked up in somewhere restricted. Such as the Department of Mysteries. Yup. I'm not particularly excited about that place. Sirius…………_

          "One is inaccessible. There is a second. It is in the Chamber of Secrets."

          Hermione gave a start. _The Chamber of Secrets?_ "But, Johnson said that the other was broken," she argued. However, after saying it, Hermione felt a little foolish. _Johnson says. Brilliant. I should never have trusted that sneak. How naïve of me. "What is it doing in the Chamber?"_

          "The originator of the House of Slytherin passes it to his heirs. None, so far, are worthy enough to find it………….yet. None, not even the wizard Johnson, who claims himself as Salazar's heir……" rasped the unmoving mouth.

          Hermione's eyes grew bigger. "You mean that I have to search the _entire chamber for it? If Johnson can't find it, how can I?"_

          "Johnson did not know of its existence. He assumed that the other was broken. Johnson was killed, before he had the chance to discover it."

          "I'll be killed too, remember? I'm just a student, and I have no 'flesh of witch' to bribe that………..that…….to bribe Valar."

_          The Bloody Baron did not contradict her. _Why should he? He has nothing to gain out of this, _thought Hermione. __But she felt a little comforted. It meant that he also has nothing to lose, by assisting me. Perhaps an eternity of unsleeping existence bores him. That's why he's living his life out through me.___

          But like the speed of which a vulture pecked a carcass clean of flesh, the joy and hope abandoned Hermione with equal rapidity. _If it's in the Chamber of Secrets, which happens to have a blood-thirsty security guard, then I'm as good as dead. What a nice piece of news. Harry almost died, battling the basilisk. Even then, he had the help of a phoenix. And Godric Gryffindor's sword. I have no one……..except for this passive ghost._

_          "Is there an alternate way?" she asked, although the answer was as clear as Veritaserum. "Like, perhaps I can get his time portkey, and say the same words, or something?"_

          This time, the Bloody Baron did not meet her eyes. Was that sorrow being displayed on his gaunt, blank face? "The time portkey belongs to Tom Marvolo Riddle." The words were said slowly, and as he delivered it, the ghost settled his hypnotizing orbs on the girl before him. "You will find the portkey hidden in the exact same chamber. Find the hourglass, and you shall find the portkey. Either way, your journey begins in the chamber."

          Hermione felt as though she was shot in the chest with a disarming spell. She shook her head, in defeat, and in denial. _My journey begins in the Chamber? What journey? The journey to the present, or to the land of the dead?_

              The answer was obvious. Sinisterly obvious.

********************

            "_It is time," hissed a cold voice. It was a hiss that was indistinguishable from a snake's. But it was no serpent that had just made the chilling sound. It was a human. "__Time to show the world what I can do.__ We will start with Hogwarts, will we not?"_

_          The answer to the hissing was an impatient swish of a long, scaly tail. "_I have waited for too long a time,_" came the reply. This time, the hiss was that of a snake's.  "_You will lead me, as my past master had done. I shall obey, if you are worthy of my servitude_."_

          Tom's blood almost froze in his nerves. _The basilisk was actually questioning my abilities? How dare it? I have gone through all the trouble, just to gain its acceptance. Flesh of a witch, countless hours of research, and illegal trips to the girls' bathroom. I will prove myself worthy, of the beast's loyalty. I will._

_          But deep in his heart, Tom had an unnerving intuition that Valar may be a basilisk, but like any other snake, she was a serpent. And serpents were not to be trusted. Not unless you were truly the Heir of Slytherin. __I am, aren't I? I am Lord Voldemort. I discovered Salazar's works…………..single-handedly._

_          He straightened up a little, his eyes running along the smooth longitudes of his wand. Every fibre in his body was in conflict. Who would be the first casualty?__ Ah, Hortense, maybe. She and her simpering, her whining, her pestering. But there was a certain student that he was longing to get rid of. A particular girl who haunted the girls' bathroom so frequently, that it was getting hard to enter the Chamber without her noticing. He hated her pudgy face as much as he detested Hortense's angular visage. __Myrtle.__ Valar would soon have her first kill._

_          It is only when love evaporates, when we can truly see someone for who they are. He ran that line though his mind several times, as he visualized the first time he actually locked lips, with feelings present. _And I was….electrified._ _She may not be the most stunning of girls, but there is a certain aura…..__

          Tom was mulling over his forsaken life, when the basilisk spoke to him.__

          "_Massster__, I sensed  an unguarded prey….she is a muggleborn. I await your wordssss…"_

          He jumped. _Am I ready for my first kill?_ "_Where is the filth, Valar?"_

_          "Close to Hogwarts's head…but none too close…….lissstening to a ghost."_

_          He frowned a little, as a nagging consciousness warned him that there was something else about the 'prey' that he should know. _Of course…..I met Hermione outside Dippet's office. Talking to a ghost? Wait a minute………_His blood turned to frost, and out of the blue, a very sharp icicle pierced his mind. _She can speak with the Bloody Baron…….__

_          "Valar, servant of Slytherin, tell me about this unarmed prey that speaks with spirits."_

_          "She is a witch…..and her blood doesss not deserve to stain the grounds of my master………she is from the mudbloods."_

_          It can't be Hermione then, thought Tom a little relieved. But just to make sure…….._

          _"Does she have bushy brown hair, and a Prefect's badge on her breast?"_

_          "Yesss, master."_

_          Tom gripped his head by his hair in anger. _She told me that she was a Pureblood_…….But a little voice in his head was contradicting him. __No, she didn't. You assumed that she was. You wanted to believe that the blood of pure magic runs in her veins. Just as you wanted to believe that she is the one._

_          He let out a cry of anguish, and clutched the cool stone to his chest, to calm himself down. The Slytherin common room was almost empty, and the few students were scattered around the cold room barely paid Tom a knut of their attention. He was strange, chiselled to perfection, perhaps, but still eccentric. That was their opinion of Tom Marvolo Riddle. Only those who were closer than blood brothers to him knew of his alter ego._

          His eyes fell on a statue of a king cobra, poised to strike. The figurine's predator-pose was a metaphor for future undertakings. _In a way, I am the serpent, and Mudbloods will be my prey. She knew about the Chamber. She knew that I am a half-blood. She knew that she had toyed with the disallowed._

          "Hermione,' he whispered under his breath. "Are you ready for the Father of the Slytherins?"

********************

          Hermione sat down on the stone cold floor, right outside Professor Dippet's office. The gargoyle that she kicked loomed behind her, while the Bloody Baron hovered in front. In a strange way, it was as though the both of them were sentinels, which guarded her front and back. 

          _I don't believe this, sitting here devising hair-brain schemes to sneak into the Chamber with a ghost as an advisor. First, I arrived here and immediately had a stupid crush on………oh, confound it! Now, I'm racing against time to free myself from this era before he actually releases his Valar. My goals are constantly switching. But now, the true quest has finally shown itself. How can I return? _

          Her brilliant mind raced and whizzed with bizarre schemes. She clutched the cylinder in her pocket nervously. _Should the time comes, to face Valar, I hope it isn't empty. Or I will die where no one will find me. No one, but Tom. Voldemort._

_          "Do you mind telling me how to get in there, at least? I need some input, you know," she said matter-of-factly, when the Bloody Baron remained as silent as Johnson, after he had been hit with the silencing charm._

          "To enter, you must tread carefully. All is not what it seems."

          "I know that," she snapped. "First and foremost, I have to be a Parselmouth."

          "No," he replied slowly, as though he was unsure of himself. "That is not the First."

          "Huh?" asked Hermione, confused. "What are you talking about? What First? You mean that there's an order or something, of what comes first?"

          "There is."

          This time, the Bloody Baron opened **his mouth. "Thou shalt now behold, the Ten Commandments of Salazar Slytherin."**

             Hermione frowned.  It was strange, the way the Bloody Baron switched from 'you' to 'thou'. Even the ghost's voice seemed to have changed. Slightly deeper, though no more impassive than before. Something told her that she was about to listen to the prohibited. But suddenly, her brain registered the fact that he had _opened his mouth_. _If he had no need to move his lips before, why now?___

          **"First, thou must understand,**

**            The commandments, and the banes;**

**            That comes with thy force,**

**            So that thine gift shalt never be lost."**

          Hermione stared, forcing herself to make sense of the cryptic poem. She blinked. It sounded……gothic, dark, even to the point of being ominous. But there was a better word for it. It was familiar. Though she had never heard anything like that before, her brain seemed to have an ability for decoding the message. By reading between the lines, Hermione realised what the Bloody Baron was trying to tell her. Her stomach turned over.

            "Is-Is there……….more?"    

          Once again, the wraith's grey lips parted, and the nerve-racking, sing-song voice emerged. Hermione had never paid any attention more rapt, than as she now did.

**            "Second, thou must then seek,**

**            Magic pure, potent, but weak;**

**            The essence of soul, ripped,**

**            Shalt take thee further, to thy keep."**

          This time, Hermione was shaking not from cold or even fear. She shook, because the understanding that dawned upon her was too huge to be acknowledged. _I am just Hermione Granger, Prefect, teenager, and I'm not even a Pureblood! Why am I being told the Ten Commandments of Salazar Slytherin? Can this help me return to where I belong?_

_          "Umm…..Sir?" she whispered. "Why am I being told these………sacred verses? How is this going to help me defeat Tom or find the hourglass?" _

          Her answer was another verse.

          **"Third, thou wilt hunt Hogwarts,**

**            For the minion, that guards;**

**            The door, the entrance and the rules,**

**            That holds peril for errant fools."**

          With each stanza uttered, Hermione turned a shade paler. It was confirmed that her ears were trespassing into regions forbidden to a Muggle-born. It was stated in a book, as old as it was dusty, that Salazar had many devious and cruel traps to punish those who wrongly claimed to be his Heir. These rhymes were one of them, created to warn false power-seekers. At that time, Hermione had dismissed the sentence as a pure falsehood, but now that she knew that those verses really did exist, the book, "An Unabridged History of Hogwarts" didn't seem so flimsy, after all. She preferred Hogwarts: A History, though. It was less dark, and had more relevant information. But now…………

**            "Fourth, thou wilt stand as one;**

**            And say thy first command;**

**            To thy minion, and I shall see,**

**            If none is as worthy as thee."**

          Hermione never once drew a breath, while the Bloody Baron was reciting the verses. She was terrified of missing a word, as she scribbled the sacred lines on a piece of spare parchment with her trusty, well-sucked quill. _I'm probably the first Muggle-born to hear these things! Her cheeks were flushed with excitement. _

          _Goodness me, she thought__. If anyone were to catch me writing the words of the most fearful of ghosts like my life depends on it,, I'll never have an explanation. The now-moving mouth had stared to speak again, and Hermione's quill flew like a wild owl in pursuit of its prey. ___

_          **"Fifth, thou shalt remain passive,**_

**            Unspeaking, and submissive;**

**            And behold, if he lets thee in willingly,**

**            To power arcane, to my legacy."**

**            "Sixth, thou must knowest,**

**            Before delving into my secrets;**

**            That thou shalt be tested once again,**

**            Fail, and thy breath shalt never remain."**

          Hermione actually raised her hand to halt the Bloody Baron. Her arms were shaking too violently to pen down the words properly. Each verse seemed to be edging a step closer to hinting about never returning. Ironically, the gaunt apparition obliged, and the mouth was closed. 

           "Fail, and thy breath shalt never remain?" asked Hermione shakily. "What are you trying to tell me? Who will be tested? What test?"

          **"Seventh, thou wilt now proceed,**

**            Into the clandestine, my innermost deed;**

**            But beware, seeker, of the Eighth,**

**            For it is treachery, that She hates. **

**            Eighth 'twas the virgin encounter,**

**            Between a servant and Her master;**

**            If thine self still remains,**

**            Thou must complete thy destiny and my pains.**

**            Thou haft now arrived at the Ninth,**

**            Thus proving thyself as one of mine;**

**            But dost thou possess the strength,**

**            For what awaits thee at the Tenth?"**

          Hermione swallowed nervously, and her cheeks were so colourless that she was almost as translucent as the Bloody Baron himself. 'Virgin encounter'? It was not hard to guess who 'She' was, but in Hermione's opinion, those verses alone were enough to cure any tomb raider of their inquisitiveness. Even more direful was the threat of what the Tenth held. She shuddered, as he began to speak. As the words poured out of the Bloody Baron's lips, it was as though someone had suddenly said "Lumos!" in her brain. She had seen the light.

          **"Tenth is …………"**

__________________________________________________________

**_End of Part 1_**

_____________________________________________________

**Em****: How's that for light reading? Oh, and I must apologise, if you have any doubts. You see, I'm not very good at archaic words and terms, so forgive my errors, okay? I'm always half-asleep during English class. =P It's just that I can't imagine anything a thousand years old speaking in everyday English! =O Review, please? I need to know if anyone's reading at all. **

Ps: No Poems at the end of this chappie, I'm afraid. I'm done with rhyming! =D

__________________________________________________________________

**Now, a little something for my reviewers (luv ya and Merry Xmas!) :**

**Dear Miss Mina Murray: Merry Xmas, and a Happy New Year to you! May you be showered with gifts, love, and all that you wish for. Too bad I can't mail ya a gift or somethin'.**

**Dear mrs.shigwa.cobain: *chews fingernail nervously* _Thank you for your review, I smiled when I saw that it was you. I hope that you won't be bored, or with regret I shall roar. Okay, how freaky was that? *squirms*_**

**Dear warriorangel15: Don't go yet, I haven't wished you a Happy New Year!**

**Dear Heart of The ****Phoenix: Merry Xmas, and a Happy new year. *sings***

**Dear Jun: Ooooh! Are you still gonna poke me? I have a Shield of Valour, you know! *laughs mischievously***

**Dear Koko: I'm really glad, no, let me rephrase that. I'm extremely jubilant that you love the twists! Sometimes, I wonder if anyone can still think straight, after reading this story.**

**Dear Lady Nessa Fefalas: Good to see you again! Sorry if I freaked you out with my e-mail. You really sound like a friend of mine, you know. I mean the unicorn-animals-LOTR thing.**

**Dear Kiki: Merry Xmas, dear!**

**Dear Emma Ackroyd: Whoa! I never knew that you read my fic! *Salutes this new reader***

**Dear Dragonbrat: Sometimes the simplest reviews are the sweetest. No flames, no constructive critism, no nitpicking, no complaints. Just easy, smiles-provoking reviews. You knew that, didn't you? Anyhow, I still wish that your Christmas would be better than mine. *Thumbs up***

**Dear Dragoness Kaei: Hold your thestrals, Lady Dragoness! I've updated, and you simply must read it. Can I wish you a Merry Xmas now? Huh? *holds out a gift***


	14. Part 2 & The First Kill

** Disclaimer: See Chapter 1, please.**

******************************

**Author's Note: Alright, to my confused readers, I explained what each stanza meant. Whee! *hollers*15 chappies! I ended Hermione Is Mine at 12, and I thought that even 12 was too much! Oh, and if you're wondering why Tom didn't know that Hermione was muggle-born although Johnson was allegedly passing messages to him through Valar, Remember this: DO NOT BELIEVE EVERYTHING THAT JOHNSON SAYS. Now, for the ever important notes to my reviewers:******

**Dear Mrs.shigwa.cobain: Did you read what I left for you at the reviews section? If you did, and you're still lost, feel free to bombard me with queries, okay? *huddles fearfully* I'm kinda used to flames, if you know what I mean. And I'll take this opportunity to apologise for my creepy SSHG tale, okay? I didn't know that…well….it'd disturb you or anything. *kneels and cries for forgiveness* =P**

**Dear Dragonbrat: OMG!You love it to pieces? I love YOUR reviews to bits! =) *shrieks happily***

**Dear Miss Mina Murray: Ooooh! Don't bite your nails! I really can't thank you enough for your sugar-coated reviews! Ouch! My tooth hurts! But don't stop, please.**

**Dear Warriorangel15: Thank goodness you are.**

**Dear Lady Nessa Fefalas: You're still reading? I thought that I scared you off with this plain story! One thing: Would you rather if I named the Basilisk Buttercup? **

**Dear Lady Tigress: Likewise, Lady Tigress.**

**Dear Maraudertimes: Of course I missed you! You didn't have to ask! *bear hug* Hey, do you get what they mean now? *wide-eyed* Happy New Year!**

**Dear ****Phoenix**** Lumen: *smiles***

**Dear Dragoness Kaei: Oh, Christmas was great but EXHAUSTING! Anyway, my gram doesn't have a PC too. Cheers, Milady Dragon! (Yeah, I'm into Tamora Pierce right now)**

**Dear Sallymander: Good to see you again! Happy New Year, Sally! Or Mander. =P**

**Dear Autoexec: Cool name….kind of familiar too. Where did I see it…..**

______________________________________________________________

**THE TEN COMMANDMENTS OF SALAZAR SLYTHERIN (PART 2)**

**_______________________________________________________**

**             First, thou must understand,**

**            The commandments, and the banes;**

**            That comes with thy force,**

**            So that thine gift shalt never be lost.**

**            Second, thou must then seek,**

**            Magic pure, potent, but weak;**

**            The essence of soul, ripped,**

**            Shalt take thee further, to thy keep.**

**            Third, thou wilt hunt Hogwarts,**

**            For the minion, that guards;**

**            The door, the entrance and the rules,**

**            That holds peril for errant fools.**

**            "Fourth, thou wilt stand as one;**

**            And say thy first command;**

**            To thy minion, and I shall see,**

**            If none is as worthy as thee.**

**            Fifth, thou shalt remain passive,**

**            Unspeaking, and submissive;**

**            And behold, if he lets thee in willingly,**

**            To power arcane, to my legacy.**

**            Sixth, thou must knowest,**

**            Before delving into my secrets;**

**            That thou shalt be tested once again,**

**            Fail, and thy breath shalt never remain.**

**             Seventh, thou wilt now proceed,**

**            Into the clandestine, my innermost deed;**

**            But beware, seeker, of the Eighth,**

**            For it is treachery, that She hates. **

**            Eighth 'twas the virgin encounter,**

**            Between a servant and Her master;**

**            If thine self still remains,**

**            Thou must complete thy destiny and my pains.**

**            Thou haft now arrived at the Ninth,**

**            Thus proving thyself as one of mine;**

**            But dost thou possess the strength,**

**            For what awaits thee at the Tenth?**

          **Tenth is the purging of the filth,**

**            Use your servant, and use only her,**

**            Only when the Mudblood's blood is spilt;**

**            Wilt thou gain the respect of I, Salazar.**

          Hermione wrote the last words down, her forehead crinkled in a deep frown. She hated the verses more than ever, now that she knew what it truly said. 

          "So," she said to the Bloody Baron. "First verse means that I'm to listen to you. Second, I'm to look for pure but weak magic, whatever that is. Third……third I've already done! The minion who guards the door is the carving of the snake, right? Harry spoke to it, then the Chamber opened."

          The wraith smiled at her. "You are smart, for a mortal," he said. 

          Hermione grinned, and she glanced at the verses. "Fourth," her face fell. "Fourth, I supposed to speak to it. But I can't talk snake. Anyway, fifth wants me to wait and see if the Chamber's doors will open for me. Fat chance."

          "Oh, but all is not what it seems," the Bloody Baron reminded her, his mouth unmoving. Hermione suppressed a snort by pretending to cough.

          "Sixth is very clear. There'll be a second test, and if I fail, I'll die. Seventh, I'm to enter the Chamber, and meet the servant. The basilisk, I suppose," she said matter-of-factly. 

          "Eight is about meeting the basilisk for the first time. Well, I've met it once, and I was Petrified. Ninth basically warns about the tenth, which bluntly states what the Heir of Slytherin is supposed to do. Kill his first victim using his Basilisk. Nice intentions,' she commented sarcastically. "Thank you for sharing this poetry with me, Sir, but I don't think that I can enter that Chamber, hourglass or no hourglass."

         The gaunt ghost slowly raised his compelling orbs and met her own brown ones. Hermione felt as though her blood had turned to frost, as a flush of mild anger crept into his visage. "Do as you please, mortal," he rasped, his voice laced with hostility. "I have given you the Sacred. I thought that you believed in miracles." With that, he turned away, gliding gracefully down the corridor. 

          Hermione said a curse word, and mentally kicked herself. A drop of water fell at her feet, but she did not think much of it. _It's probably faulty plumbing_, she told herself absently. But as her mind registered finally registered that plumbing involves pipes, she started to shake. _Pipes means basilisk. _

_          The Bloody Baron's words echoed in her head continuously. "_Either way, your journey begins in the Chamber." _Hermione wiped a drop of sweat from her brow, and hardened her heart. "Bloody Baron! Sir!" she shouted. A few passing students gave her a long, calculative look that suggested derangement, but Hermione didn't mind. What mattered was that he stopped. She caught up with him, and together, they headed for her doom. _

***********************

          Tom shoved his chair back, and stood up so abruptly that the chair lost its balance and fell with a thud. He ran so fast, to Professor Dippet's office that for a while, his surrounding was only a blur. _What if she tells someone about the Chamber_, he thought. _It is Sacred…….What if they opened it up?_

_          He was about to turn into the office grounds, when the Basilisk spoke to him. "__Masster," said the piercing, needle-like hiss. "_I hunger."__

          Tom stopped in his tracks, and took a deep breath. "_Have you……killed?"_

          "_No. But she knowsss. She knows the way, although she is of tainted blood. They are coming to the Chamber." _

_          A very pregnant paused ensued. Tom's inhalation was halted. __They?_ So she has told, I see. Very well. I will give you a welcome that you will never forget.__

_          "To the Chamber, Valar," he commanded. "_We will be having visitors."__

_          With the same burst of lightning speed, he sprinted down flights of stairs, knocking a titan girl flat on her feet as he passed. Finally, when he reached the lightless corridor where puddles of water hinted that Valar had been bolder, he arrived at the bathroom. _

          The sounds of a girl sobbing echoed, and Tom gritted his teeth. _Stay where you are, you miserable toad, and perhaps I'll let you live. With great apprehension, he stepped into the damp toilet, his shoes splashing stealthily. No one was to be seen, but he knew that Myrtle was in her cubicle, bawling over her pathetic life. Tom was already tired, worn out from the match, and he wasn't sure if he could intervene, if Valar decided to kill her._

          The Basilisk was nowhere to be seen, and Tom clicked his tongue, irritated. "_Valar__!" he hissed furiously. __I hope she hasn't gone after Hermione already. _What if Valar led me on a wild goose chase, so that she can salvage Hermione for herself?_ His darting eyes fell on the carving of the snake. "__Open up, and show yourself!" he instructed in Parseltongue. As the tap glowed, and the sink dissolved out of sight, he felt the ground tremble a little, signalling the arrival of a gargantuan creature. The Basilisk would not come unless it was called, but Tom had summoned it. _Please,_ he thought desperately. _Don't let her be the monster's first kill_. _In fact, don't let her be killed at all!_ He wasn't thinking about Myrtle._

          The Basilisk's head emerged at about the same time as Myrtle's. The bespectacled girl, sniffling sulkily, threw the door of her cubicle open with mock authority. "What is a BOY-" she began when she saw Tom's dark head turned towards her. But she got no further, when the Basilisk struck.

          "Stop!" shouted Tom, panic rising in him. He could not allow Valar to sink her fangs into Myrtle, as such carelessness would result in their detection. No other creature in the realm produced the Basilisk's venom, no other, save for Valar. If anyone found out that a Basilisk was on the prowl, Hogwarts would be closed, and he would return to the muggle orphanage. 

          Valar dutifully jerked to a stop, spitting like an enraged beast. Tom could not blame her, but when he looked, Myrtle was already drained of her life, murdered by Valar's gaze of death. Tom swallowed. 

          He backed away, praying that no one would enter the bathroom, and catch him red-handed. "_Go now!" _he all but shouted at the Basilisk_. _Leaving the still-warm body of Myrtle on the wet floor, he turned to leave. 

********************

          Hermione's heart froze, when she finally reached the dreaded toilet. "Oh, well," she said to the Bloody Baron, "Better die trying, right?"

          She allowed one foot to tread inside, when someone grabbed her arm. Hermione daren't turn to face her attacker, as she knew that it couldn't be the Bloody Baron. At least it was fingers that grabbed her, not snapping, vicious teeth. She squinted at the robed figure at the corner of her eyes. The grip on her hand was familiar……

          "Tom……….!"


	15. Die Another Day

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1, please.

**Dear Mrs.shigwa.cobain: HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY! Your long, lengthy review was fabulous, and I consider it as a late Christmas present! Don't worry, when I said 'flames', I didn't mean your reviews. Yours are just honest, frank remarks that, at the same time, give me the motivation that I need. Flames…..well, I have my share of those. But then again, which fic is complete without at least one mindless complaint? =)**

**Dear Emma Ackroyd: Oooh! I'm annoying you? Whoopsie! **

**Dear Lady Nessa Fefalas: Uh-oh. I can't change the name to Buttercup now, dearie! LOLZ! Cool story!**

**Dear Miss Mina Murray: Happy New Year 2004! Whee! **

**Dear Dragoness Kaei: If you mean the one about Alanna's daughter, nope! I haven't bought it yet. I've just finished Lady Knight, the one about Keladry of Mindelan. Happy New Year!**

**Dear aiko: Thanx.**

**Dear anja-boyce: Hello! Nice seeing you here. Happy reading.**

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**Die Another Day.**

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          Harry tossed and turned in his bed restlessly, unable to shut his lids for even a minute. His mind was perpetually occupied by scenes of his godfather's untimely death, the spats he'd had with his best friend, and images of Hermione. From time to time, a pair of blood-red eyes forced their way into his consciousness. The orbs might be scarlet, the colour of passion and warmth, but ironically, they reeked of frost and cunning. His thoughts travelled to his second year at Hogwarts, the year when he first met Voldemort as a boy. The coal-headed Prefect had the appearance of an admirable, normal-looking being, perhaps even to the point of handsomeness. How on earth did he managed to grow into the unrecognizable creature who possessed the visage of a completely different man?

          "I miss her," came a hollow, flat voice out of the dark. Harry blinked. Could he be speaking his mind now? "But I miss us being friends even more," the voice continued. _So do I,_ thought Harry, but he did not speak. Instead, he concentrated on the Time Portkey, and on Hermione.

**************

          "Don't go in there," warned Tom, as Hermione struggled to free herself from his grip of iron. "You don't want to be caught beside her…it."

          "It?" asked Hermione shrilly, and she threw the Bloody Baron a panic-stricken glance. "It as in basilisk, or in inanimate object?"

          Tom lowered his gaze, his blue eyes clouded with evasion. "It as in corpse. A student's dead, Hermione. Killed by her own interfering nose. Doesn't matter, anyway," he said offhandedly. "She's a Mudblood."

          Hermione's eyes widened unbelievingly, and she restrained herself from giving Tom a nice, hearty slap. "So am I," she reminded him in a voice as hard steel.

          "I'm very well aware of that," he replied quietly. "And so is Valar."

          An avalanche of nerve-numbing frost tumbled onto the brunette, and she took a step backwards from Tom_. So…I am simply witnessing history replay itself? And I've done nothing to prevent injustice,_ she thought angrily. "Valar…is Valar in there?"

          Tom nodded, and his mouth hardened. "She will kill you the moment you invade the Chamber."

          "Come another day," said an ethereal voice, expressionless but commanding, nonetheless. The Bloody Baron had spoken. Hermione stood transfixed at the outrageousity of it all. "Another day," she repeated. "So that I can die another day?"

          The apparition tilted his head, as though deep in thought. "You will die," he breathed, sending a train of chills up her back. "But not today."

          Tom stepped between the ghost and Hermione, but before he could question the Ghost Prophecy, Hermione snapped. She couldn't allow Tom to know that the Bloody Baron was simply commenting on what he saw in the future. It would be disastrous.

          "We should go now," she said to the wraith, as she sent him a look that reeked of conspiracy. "We've got to tell someone about the…..mess."

***************************** 

          It was rather late, and the sun was on its way to slumber land, when Tom finally rapped Professor Dippet's door with the very fist that held Hermione earlier. He had appealed to the Head for permission to remain at Hogwarts, despite the attacks. Of course, Tom knew that he would be unharmed, because the attacker was none other than his little companion, the millennia-year-old snake.

******************************

          Hermione was loitering in the Great Hall, when she felt a gusty rush of Artic Frost expelled on her neck. "Please," she said, without so much as turning. "I'm trying to think here."

          "Then you ought to transfer your thoughts to Riddle," suggested the ghost, as he drifted in front of her. "Have you forgotten what is supposed to happen today?"

          Hermione frowned. It had already occurred, the death. But then, she gasped. "Today is the day that Harry witnessed through Tom's diary! Tom's gone to see Dippet, and Harry heard the entire conversation! Then he watched as Tom arrested Hagrid! Of course!" she said excitedly. "Nobody can see him, but he will be there! Oh my god….I have to catch him!"

          She raced up the many flights of stairs, panting like a worn-out athlete. Tom had already entered, when she arrived at the desired door. Without turning a hair, Hermione barged in, very much aware of the shocked stares she was given. 

          "In the name of dancing monkeys, what are you DOING, young lady?" asked Professor Dippet, as he stood up, appalled. 

          "Harry!" she shouted, just in case the phantom of her friend didn't get what she was about to say. Hermione knew that he was in the room, watching, although they couldn't see him. "The password's REVELATIO! I'm stuck here, tell Dumbledore that Myrtle's already dead, but remember the password!"

********************************

          "Harry! Wake up!" 

          Harry Potter shot up in his four-poster-bed, and grabbed Ron by his shoulders. "I remembered!" he gasped, wiping at the beads of cold sweat that adorned his forehead. "I saw Hermione…….she shot into Dippet's office, and she told me the password! Tom and the Head just stared, and the look on his face when Hermione blurted out his precious password! Revelatio! Revelatio!"

          "You saw everything?" asked Ron, their earlier dispute pushed to the very back of his mind. "Like you're possessed?"

          "No," said Harry, grinning. "It was a memory. Can't imagine why I couldn't recall it earlier!"

          "Perhaps because…..it's a new memory," said Ron sagely. "Hermione's in the past, and she's 'making' history!"

*****************************

          Tom bustled her out the office, and Hermione obliged. She had already said what was to be said, and there wasn't anything that Tom could do now.     

            Hermione raised her eyes level to his, and although the Bloody Baron was no longer by her side, she still had her wand…….and the secret weapon. "How did you know the password of my Book?" Tom demanded, his face livid with fear, fury, and ferocity. Nice combination.

          "I came here because of that darn thing! Didn't Johnson tell you that?" she snapped, annoyed by his theatrics. "Johnson the portrait? Johnson the double-crosser? Johnson the Parselmouth?"

          Instead of admitting that she was right, Tom's eyes glinted chillingly. "Johnson the Parselmouth," he repeated, his visage haunted by hostility. "Johnson the portrait," Hermione nodded. 

          But his next sentence brought a wave of dread over her. "I know no Johnson, Hermione. And if you mean that portrait…….it has never so much as given me a glance." 

          The girl to whom he was speaking only shook her head slowly, as though she did not want to believe what she was hearing. A very cold, gargantuan lump was clogging her trachea. For a while, it was as though someone had pointed a wand at her, and shouted "Obrigescionsa!" the Freezing Charm.

          "I-I..He….But Johnson said……" she faltered. 

          "Johnson said that we scratched each others' back?" offered Tom.

          Hermione couldn't speak, so she nodded. 

"Then he must have lied."

"He couldn't have!" she half-whispered in a voice that was quite foreign. She thrust her hands into her pockets-they were trembling. "He knew about Hortense finger! He knew that you spat at her! He………he said that he groomed you!"

But Tom simply shook his head. "Everybody knew about Hortense and I. That worthless rubbish was actually proud of the fact that I picked her for her finger, out of the many witches in this school. About the spitting………I recall that half the school saw that act? Hermione! Are you alright?"

Hermione, defeat and shock crushing her like a Blast-Ended Skewrt, fell to the ground. Her kneeling posture struck a satirical pose of a servant kneeling to her master, which was Tom. It was the sinister foreshadowing of the future, in which a certain gaunt-face lady, the woman who held the title as Sirius Black's murderer, would kiss the robes of Lord Voldemort. _Johnson had smiled…..while he was burnt…._Her head hurt a little, but she pushed further_. _

_I hate this place, she thought, silent sobs threatening to shake her. A new lie seem to be presenting itself every time I look away. __What other atrocities are lurking, waiting for the right moment to make their appearance? When Johnson's lip curled, she couldn't call to mind the reason…….she had read it, somewhere, just last week. There was only one explanation as to why a portrait would want to be a fire's meal…..and that was-_

          "Tom!" she shouted, clinging onto his arm in her hurry to rise. "Forget blaming Hagrid for the attacks. Don't give me that surprised look; I know what you're planning to do. Aragog didn't do it, and you know it! Hagrid's insignificant, compared to what's awaiting us in the Chamber!"

          "But Valar…" protested Tom, as he hurried after her.

          "The Bloody Baron said that I'm not going to die today! I was stupid enough not to take a hint, when it was dropped. He wants me to enter the Chamber today, Tom. That's why he told me that I wouldn't die today! If there's a day, when I'm entering the Chamber, it would be today."

          "Besides," she added as an afterthought. "All is not what is seems."

          Hermione quickened her steps, matching Tom's own long strides. "I was told the Ten Commandments today,' she disclosed, when they stood in front of the carving of the snake. "Salazar's Ten Commandments. And……I think that…….maybe there _is_ a way for a Muggle-born to enter the Chamber."

          Tom's pulse raced, faster than Harry's legendary Firebolt, and he tuned away from Hermione, who was shivering. She looked distraught, but the tenacity in her eyes flashed like a beacon. "And I will be breaking His rules, if I let you in," he said.

          Hermione gritted her teeth in vexation, and she thrust her anguished face into his. "Look at me!" she instructed, in a voice so commanding that Tom's startling blue eyes swerved themselves her in mild surprise. The twice-deceived girl summoned all her remaining strength, and prayed that her voice did not quiver.

            "Forget His rules. Today is MY day, and the even Salazar can't stop me from entering. Although, if what I was told is right, Salazar won't be stopping me today. Tom, have our kiss meant nothing to you?" she asked, although she hated that dirty trick. Resorting to emotions was always the very last trick in her book, but Hermione was desperate. Myrtle had died, and she had done absolutely nothing,despite being given a chance to re-shape history. "And I've just realized, the Fourth Commandment-Thou wilt stand as one/ and say thy first command? Nothing in the verses implied that Salazar was only talking to _one person. Maybe 'to stand as one' has a double-meaning."_

            Tom's robes made an angry swishing sound, as he staggered backwards. She was smarter than he thought…….. "Hermione," he breathed, "I think that perhaps Salazar didn't rule out the possibility that a witch might come along, and use "outstanding logic" to outsmart him."

          He smiled a little, his eyes glittering dangerously. Hermione, although jaded and drained, felt a faint flutter in her stomach. "And to answer your earlier question……yes. The kiss did mean something. It meant a lot."

          "But you are still You-Know…but you're still Lord Volde..Voldemort."

________________________________________________________________

Obrigescio=freeze (Latin)

Author's note: Too confusing? If you have the slightest doubt, even the teeniest bit, tell me. (hint: review). I think that I've earned my rest, for now. And…you needn't fear that this is one of those long-winded stories that just can't seem to end. I'm trying my best to write the conclusion that doesn't finish with, "AND SHE WOKE UP, AND IT WAS ALL A DREAM."


	16. He Is Back And So Is She

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.

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**He Is Back (and so is she)**

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          "_Open up," hissed a cold voice that made Hermione shudder involuntarily. She fixed her eyes, instead, on the carving of the snake that began to glow white hot. When the sink finally sank out of sight, Tom looked at her, as if to say, "Valar is in there."_

          Hermione ignored his glance, and promptly slid herself down the hollow of the tunnel. True, she was nervous about entering the Chamber, but she knew that the Bloody Baron's predictions were never wrong. At least, she hoped that he wasn't. 

          Tom landed a few seconds later, and frowned a little. "You will be killed for this," he hissed, but she ignored that too. Instead, Hermione took out her wand, muttered "Lumos!" and adjusted her eyes, to suit the darkness. Unlike the future, the Chamber was still preserved, and no cave-ins had happened yet. 

          "Give me the Book," she said to Tom, her hand in her pockets. 

          But Tom only shook his head. "If I really did have the Book," he drawled, "wouldn't I have used it myself?"

          She folded her arms across her chest, her eyes level and very well aware of the fact that she had not combed her hair for days. It was flyaway and almost grizzly, but Hermione ignored her mad-like look, and slapped a centipede off her leg, instead.

          "Yes you would," she replied with equal frostiness. "Unless you don't know where it is yourself."

          "I didn't know that it even exists. And no, I didn't inherit it," he spat, a little defensively. The Chamber was his inner sanctum, and Hermione was the one making demands. "If you came here because of that Book, shouldn't it be with you, anyway?"

          "Yes.." she whispered. "But……"

          "But you dropped it," he answered, his wand directed at her, as a smile broke over his face. "Thank you, Gangly, for telling me the password. How useful you've been,"

          Hermione's mouth dropped open, and she sensed her folly, but it was too late. "So your friendliness was forced? Just to get the magic word?" _I have been too stupid, she thought, moroseness and trepidation replacing her level-headedness. Why…of course I had the book with me. Unless someone stole it while I was unconscious……._

_          "You have it don't you?" she breathed, eyeing his loose robes apprehensively. __Somewhere…….in those pockets, lies my way home._

_          "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do," replied Tom cheerfully. "Oh, Gangly, what did you expect? I am Lord Voldemort after all," he smiled. "And I have taught myself well. Feelings…..they're just distractions. They prevent you from doing great things. They are the hurdles to substantial power. Yes……I did have second thoughts about killing you. But after some light 'reading', my foolishness is cured. Now, my only obsession is to finish the works of my forefathers."_

          Hermione wanted to run, to flee, or just to get away from the changed Riddle, but her legs held her as though they were rooted. "I will not die today," she said, as she repeated the Bloody Baron's words. It was dire, to be held at the tip of Tom's wand, but Hermione knew that if there was to be a time, when a Muggle-born survives the curse of Voldemort, it would be now. 

          "Oh, no?" asked Tom candidly. "Then I suppose that you will live, even after hearing the call of death?"

          "Yes," she replied, her voice steady, and hands unshaking. _After the Johnson incident, nothing can throw me off my feet, she told herself. _Harry lived, and he had his Mother's protection. I too, shall live, by the words of the Bloody Baron.__

_          "And you're going to defeat me with your lighted wand? It wouldn't work, Hermione. It just wouldn't. This Chamber is sealed, bound by centuries of reinforced charms. There are certain spells, which only one in whose veins runs the power of magic, can break. You, a Mudblood, don't have a single drop of sorcery in your body."_

          Hermione's mind raced, as she recalled the Sixth Commandment. _Thou shalt be tested once again. So this was the test? A blood test?_

_          "That is absurd," she snapped, her neck flushing angrily. "__Expelliarmus!" But the fact that Tom only continued to doodle his wand confirmed his taunts. She couldn't work aggressively against him. _

          "Initially, the test was to fight the Basilisk," he said, a cold sneer adorning his face. "Only those, whose genesis traces back to a Pureblood, can blind Valar," he explained patronizingly. "But this is a very rare, very guarded secret, the Caecitasio Charm. Magic pure, potent but weak. Pure because only a Pureblood-descended being can work it. Potent because it's the only charm strong enough to shut a Basilisk's eyes. Weak…..weak because it affects no other creature, but the Basilisk. I sought it, all right, and yes, it has brought me closer to my keep. "

          Hermione shook her head, but even her perseverance was starting to wane. It was when she realised that the trick here was to _not use magic_ against Tom. "Do you have the book with you now?" she asked steadily. That was the most important part, the reason she entered the Chamber. _Either way, my journey begins here._

_          "Ah…..Of course I do," he said brightly. His fingers reached into his pockets…and took out the object that had caused all the trouble. Hermione grimaced. "And yes, I am planning to pay my future self a visit," he said._

          "I won't let you," she whispered. "You've done enough damage already…..You were given a second chance, but he is going to defeat you anyway," she spat, thinking of Harry. "You don't have half his powers."

          "Shut up!" shouted Tom, and a few rats scuttled away. "Dumbledore may be back, he returned yesterday. But even that Muggle-lover can't stop me. I have youth, and the cunning that he doesn't. He will die, by my wand."

          Hermione glared. If anyone had told her, a week ago, that she would be defying Lord Voldemort in The Chamber of Secrets, she would have sent them straight to Madam Pomfrey. But now, Hermione realised, that everything was possible. _So…..it is also possible that I will live….to return._

_          "Either way, my journey begins here," she said, her hand wandering further into her pocket. It was time……he may be Voldemort, but now, Tom was, as he said, a mere youth. And with youth comes folly. _

          "What did you say?" asked Tom acidly. "No, let me rephrase that. I don't care what you say. You will be dead...now."  

          He opened his mouth to shout the deadly Unforgivable Curse, but as he did, Hermione's hand had already emerged from her pocket, bearing her secret weapon.

          "I will not die today!" she shouted, as she sprayed the pepper-spray viciously at his glittering, shocked eyes. "I will die," she snarled incandescently, "but it shall be another day!"

          Tom let out a howl of irascibility, as the substance stung his eyes with the ferocity of the Cruciatus curse. His hand slackened, and Hermione triumphantly snatched the book away. 

          "You cannot leave!" he shrieked, wiping his orbs with his sleeves. But Tom was blinded, and Hermione could not care less. She might not be able to perform the Caecitasio spell on a Basilisk, but fortunately, Tom wasn't one.

          "I can," she answered chillily. Just for old times sake, Hermione diffused the painful substance a second time. _The pepper-spray was formidable enough to counter a grizzly bear, she smiled. "And I will."_

          She tapped the Book with her wand, and prayed that it was only aggressive spells that would be dysfunctional. Tom's howls of rages sounded very sinister, as though he was hissing like a spitting serpent. And then she realised….he was calling the basilisk!

          "Yu won't die today," reminded a familiar voice behind her. Tom was still writhing, but his voiced continued to echo all over the Chamber. In no time, the Basilisk would arrive, and Hermione didn't trust the pepper-spray to hold Valar off.

          It was Johnson. Johnson her deceiver. Johnson the burnt portrait. Johnson the walking, living wizard.

          Hermione, jaded as she was, couldn't help gasping as his arrival. But it was not unexpected, as she had learnt. Nothing was unexpected here. "You live," she breathed. "That couldn't be possible. Not unless you had been…"

          Johnson the Deceiver smiled, a warm, understanding smile, like the one that was etched on his face during his final moments in the fire. It was not sinister, or even spiteful. But it was a smile that she would have expected to see on Dumbledore's face. It didn't suit him. 

          "Let me silence that wretched boy first," he answered, whipping out his own wand. Hermione gaped, when the hisses actually died from Tom's mouth. "You're a Pureblood."

          "Yes I am," he said, his eyes sliding towards Tom. "And it takes one to defeat one, in this cursed place."

          But Hermione still held the pepper-spray in her hand, as she asked, "whose side are you on? You've told more lies than a snake."

          "I did," he admitted, rubbing his chin. "But it was this……..git, who put the Imperious Curse on me, forcing me to reveal every single on-goings in Dippet's Office. During your third year, eh?" he asked giving Tom a long, shrewd look. 

          "And I lived, because of my own greed. I put a part of myself in the portrait, waiting to emerge at the right time."

          Hermione frowned. Was it possible? Tom had preserved part of his sixteen-year-old self in the diary, after all. But Johnson…….

          "But your portrait was burnt," she said sharply. "You should be dead."

          "I should," he answered, his eyes narrowed. "But part of the 'contract' stated that I was to be burnt, by the inferno of the eternal fire, to be released. Thank you, I should say."

          Hermione stared. _How many ways were there to keep oneself immortal? The Secret Diary.and now a portrait?_

_          "But you wouldn't live, would you?" she asked Johnson, sensing that something was amidst. "You're only part alive. This isn't you."_

          "No," he answered quietly. "I died many, many decades ago. Killed by my own potion. It seeped unknowingly into my veins, merging with my blood. Experiments can be a deadly thing, as I found out the hard way. It cost me my life."

          "So the point of your existence is…….?"

          "Is forbidden. Creature of the living are only given one chance to live. Those who trick death, whether by conserving themselves by Dark Arts, or otherwise, shall know that in the end, their entity would not be sustained."

          "Which means that….?"

          "That I will expire soon."

          Hermione bit her lip. According to Harry, Tom grew stronger as Ginny's condition deteriorated. _He needs energy……fuel_, she realised. 

          "I have to go," she said finally. "And you…?"

          "I will stay, and hold off his monster," answered Johnson in a flat tone. "He has called, and although he is silenced, she will come. She always comes to her master."

          Hermione felt like crying. It sounded as though Johnson was giving up, and walking to his death. She knew that he couldn't survive, because more than 50 years later, the Basilisk would challenge Harry Potter, and there was no sign of any man by the name of Johnson. It meant that the Basilisk would live, but not him.

          "You can come with me," she found herself saying. "Dumbledore would help you to…..live."

          But Johnson only shook his head, as he fingered his wand. "There is no other way, not unless I …feed on another," he replied curtly. "And after years of enslavement, I would rather be free, than be used as a puppet by this abomination," he spat at Tom.

          Tom's eyes watered, but his tears did not materialised out of regret. He watched, his wand out of reach. 

          "Go now," said Johnson, as he tilted his head towards a gargantuan statue. Hermione watched, as the monkey-like figurine's mouth started to open……

          "I owe my freedom to you. Now, it is time for me to pay back the hours that I owe Death."

          Hermione dabbed at her eyes, and she tapped the book with a finale glance at Johnson. "Revelatio!" she said, and a familiar sensation hugged her torso. It was time to leave……….

          Her last vision, before she woke up in the hospital wing, many, many years later, was that of a thin man with a goatee, shouting at a huge, serpent that slithered out of the serpent's mouth……….

*********************************************

**Epilogue**

          "So," said Ron as he came in with a basketful of Chocolate Frogs. "Big adventure?"

          Hermione remained silent, as her mind raced back to the Chamber……..the past two days, when she was deceived continuously by a portrait, then Voldemort himself. But as she learnt, death…….death was a relative thing.

          But who had given her the Book in the first place? If it didn't belong to Tom, then……..her eyes caught the sight of a house elf lurking guiltily by her bed. 

          "Hitta?"

          "Mistress must not be angry," whimpered the creature, as she bowed lowly. Hermione saw that her eyes were glistening with tears.

          "Hitta has to it it..Hitta must! That was his last wish to Hitta!"

          Hermione sat up bolt upright. "Whose last wish? Who is your master?"

          She blinked. The elf had said "Johnson," 

          "Johnson was your master?" she asked, rubbing her temples. "It was his book?"

          "Yes!" the morose creature wept. "Hitta tolds him that it was Bad Magic! Hitta did! But he want to live forever……….and he say that if all goes wrong, only this Book can save him! Mistress must forgive Hitta! Hitta…..Hitta gives this to Mistress because Mistress hides socks in dustbins!"

          Hermione's breath was halted in her throat. "Johnson was counting on someone to travel back in time to save him?" she asked incredulously. "I could've died! I could've-"  
But she said no more_. But I didn't die, she told herself sensibly. Imagine, being trapped in a picture frame playing spy for Tom. He was caged………and he didn't want to return_. 

          "But risking MY life!"

          Hitta sobbed, shaking her head. Hermione took a few deep breaths, and calmed her frazzled nerves down. "Don't cry," she said weakly. "I met your master………and he was an…..honourable man."

          Hitta sniffled and looked up. "Yes, yes," she said sadly. "Only, he was too hasty. Did he die?"

          Hermione wanted to say "yes," because no one could survive the Basilisk's glare…..but she caught herself in time. After all, as she had learnt, nothing was impossible.

          "I don't know," she said truthfully. "But Hitta……..was Hagrid expelled?"

          Ron, who had been remaining silent all the time, glanced at Hitta, and told her to leave. Harry had entered the room, and he headed towards Hermione. "Was Hagrid expelled?" she asked again, looking at Harry.

          "What a strange thing to ask," replied the green-eyed boy. And when she looked into his orbs, she knew.

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Author's note:

Finally! Finished at last! 

**Mrs.shigwa.cobain: I hope you find this alright. No, Hagrid ISN'T expelled, and that was the one thing that Hermione could change. Sheesh! Anyway, your reviews were always nice, telling me when the chapter isn't that good and when it's alright. Alright, from my Most Feared Reviewer, you're officially promoted to………….my Friend. An e-friend, at least. Bye!**

**Lady Nessa Fefalas: Haha! You're always so hyper and all……gosh, I'm glad I sent you that e-mail! If you want me to read your stories, just say the word. I'm not a harsh critic, but I'm trying not to be too lenient as well. Oh, well, see ya in my other unfinished story!**

**Aletha****: I remember you. Well…….hope you enjoyed this fic!**

**Miss Mina Murray: Awwww….you don't want it to end? Me too, but come Feb 28, my idle life will be over. So now, I'm trying to wrap everything up, before I go back to my boring, torturous school-life. Arrrrggghhhh! Once again, you make me smile.**


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